HILDEGARDES 


HARVEST 


BY- LAURA-  E  •  RICHARDS 


EDDC1TIOH  IIBB. 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

Education 

GIFT  OF 

Louise  Farrow  Barr 


HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 


EDUCATION  LIBBi 


"  Queen  Hildegarde  "   Series. 

By  Laura  E*  Richards, 


HILDEGARDE'S  HARVEST. 

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HILDEGARDE    DANCED    THE    VIRGINIA    REEL    WITH    THE 
COLONEL." 


EDUC.- 


HlLDEGARDE'S    HARVEST 


BY 

LAURA    E.    RICHARDS 

AUTHOR   OF   "CAPTAIN    JANUARY,"    "  HlLDEGARDE'S   NEIGHBOURS," 
"QUEEN    HILDEGARDE,"    ETC. 


CUustratrt 


BOSTON 
DANA  ESTES  &  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1897, 
BY  ESTES  AND  LAUKIAT, 


Education 


Colonial 

Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  C.  H.  Simonds  &  Co. 
Boston,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 


317 


PAGE 


I.  THE  MORNING  MAIL         ... 

II.  THE  CHRISTMAS  DRAWER  .        •      21 

III.  AUNT  EMILY     .  .41 

IV.  GREETINGS         .  .        .       59 
V.  AT  THE  EXCHANGE  .  •       73 

VI.  MORE  GREETINGS      .  •       96 

VII.  MERRY  WEATHER  SIGNS  .  -     117 

VIII.  CHRISTMASING  .  •     137 

IX.  AN  EVENING  HOUR  .  •     162 

X.  DIE  EDLE  MUSICA    ...  .176 

XI.  THE  BOYS          ....  .196 

XII.  JIMMY'S  POND  .        .  •     217 

XIII.  MERRY  CHRISTMAS   .  •     238 

XIV.  BELLEROPHON    .         .  •     257 
XV.  AT  LAST    .                           279 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 
"  HlLDEGARDE      DANCED      THE     VIRGINIA      REEL      WITH 

THE  COLONEL  " Frontispiece 

BELL'S  LETTER 14 

"MRS.  DELANSING  SCRUTINISED  HER  AS  SHE  CAME 

THROUGH  THE  LONG  ROOM  "  .  .  .  .50 
"  '  HlLDEGARDE  GRAHAME,  IN  THE  NAME  OF  ALL 

THAT'S  WONDERFUL  ! '" 91 

"  '  CONSIDER  THE  BEAUTY  OF  YOUR  OFFSPRING  '  "  .  140 

DlE    EDLE    MUSICA 177 

ON  JIMMY'S  POND 223 

"  A  LITTLE    FIGURE  .  .  .  STOOD   OUT   CLEAR   AGAINST 

THE  DARK  FIRS  "  .  274 


HILDEGAKDE'S  HARVEST. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   MORNING   MAIL. 

HILDEGARDE  was  walking  home  from  the 
village,  whither  she  had  gone  to  get  the  mail. 
She  usually  rode  the  three  miles  on  her  bicycle, 
but  she  had  met  a  tack  on  the  road  the  day 
before,  and  must  now  wait  a  day  or  two  till 
the  injured  tire  could  be  mended. 

Save  for  missing  the  sensation  of  flying, 
which  she  found  one  of  the  most  delightful 
things  in  the  world,  she  was  hardly  sorry  to 
have  the  walk.  One  could  not  see  so  much 
from  the  wheel,  unless  one  rode  slowly;  and 
Hildegarde  could  not  ride  slowly, — the  joy  of 
flying  was  too  great.  It  was  good  to  look  at 


10  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

everything  as  she  went  along,  to  recognise  the 
knots  on  the  trees,  and  stop  for  a  friendly  word 
with  any  young  sapling  that  looked  as  if  it 
needed  encouragement.  Also,  the  leaves  had 
fallen,  and  what  could  be  pleasanter  than  to 
walk  through  them,  stirring  them  up,  and  hear- 
ing the  crisp,  clean  crackle  of  them  under  her 
feet?  Also,  —  and  this  was  the  most  potent 
reason,  after  all,  —  she  could  read  her  letters  as 
she  walked,  and  she  had  good  letters  to-day. 

The  first  that  she  opened  was  addressed  in 
a  round,  childish  hand  to  "  Mis'  Hilda,"  the 
"  Grahame "  being  added  in  a  different  hand. 
The  letter  itself  was  written  in  pencil,  and  read 
as  follows : 

"MY  DEER, 

"  I  hop  you  are  well.  I  am  well.  Aunt  Wealthy  is  well. 
Martha  is  well.  Dokta  jonSon  is  well;  these  are  all  the 
peple  that  is  well.  Germya  has  the  roomatiks  so  bad  he 
sase  he  thinks  he  is  gon  this  time  for  sure.  I  don't  think 
he  is  gon,  he  has  had  them  wers  before.  Aunt  Wealthy  gave 
me  a  bantim  cock  and  hens,  his  nam  is  Goliath  of  Gath,  and 
there  nams  is  Buty  and  Topknot.  The  children  has  gon 
away  from  Joyus  Gard;  they  were  all  well  and  they  went 
home  to  scool.  I  miss  them  ;  I  go  to  scool,  but  I  don't  lik  it, 


THE   MORNING  MAIL.  11 

but  I  am  gone  to  have  tee  with  Mista  Peny  pakr  tonite,  Aunt 
Wealthy  sade  I  mite.    He  has  made  a  new  hous  and  it  is  nise. 
"  So  goodbi  from 

"  BENNY." 

Hildegarde  laughed  a  good  deal  over  this 
letter,  and  then  wiped  away  a  tear  or  two  that 
certainly  had  no  business  in  her  happy  eyes. 

"  Dear  little  Benny  !  "  she  said.  "  Dear  little 
boy !  But  when  is  the  precious  lamb  going  to 
learn  to  spell  ?  This  is  really  dreadful !  I 
suppose  '  Germya '  is  Jeremiah,  though  it  looks 
more  like  some  new  kind  of  porridge.  And 
Mr.  Pennypacker  with  a  new  house!  This  is 
astonishing !  I  must  see  what  Cousin  Wealthy 
says  about  it." 

The  next  letter,  bearing  the  same  postmark, 
of  Bywood,  and  written  in  a  delicate  and  tremu- 
lous hand,  was  from  Miss  Bond  herself.  It 
told  Hildegarde  in  detail  the  news  that  Benny 
had  outlined ;  described  the  happy  departure 
of  the  children,  who  had  spent  their  convales- 
cence at  the  pleasant  summer  home,  all  rosy- 
cheeked,  and  shouting  over  the  joy  they  had 
had.  Then  she  went  on  to  dilate  on  the  won- 


12  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

derful  qualities  of  her  adopted  son  Benny, 
who,  it  appeared,  was  making  progress  in  every 
branch  of  education. 

"I  may  be  prejudiced,  my  dear,"  the  good 
old  lady  wrote,  "but  I  am  bound  to  say  that 
Martha  agrees  with  me  in  thinking  him  a  most 
remarkable  child." 

Miss  Bond  further  told  of  the  event  of  the 
neighbourhood,  the  building  of  Mr.  Galusha 
Pennypacker's  new  house.  The  neighbourhood 
of  so  many  little  children,  his  friendship  with 
Benny,  "but  more  than  all,  his  remembrance  of 
you,  my  dear  Hildegarde,"  had,  it  appeared, 
wrought  a  marvellous  change  in  the  old  hermit. 
The  kindly  neighbours  had  met  him  half-way  in 
his  advances,  and  were  full  of  good-will  and 
helpfulness ;  and  when,  by  good  fortune,  his 
miserable  old  shanty  had  burned  down  one 
summer  night,  the  whole  neighbourhood  had 
turned  out  and  built  him  a  snug  cottage  which 
would  keep  him  comfortable  for  the  rest  of  his 
days. 

"  Mr.  Pennypacker  came  here  yesterday  to  invite  Benny  to 
drink  tea  with  him  (I  employ  the  current  expression,  my 


THE   MORNING   MAIL.  13 

dear,  though  of  course  the  child  drinks  nothing  but  milk  at 
his  tender  age;  I  have  always  considered  tea  a  beverage  for 
the  aged,  or  those  who  are  not  robust),  and  in  the  course  of 
conversation,  he  begged  me  most  earnestly  to  convey  to  you 
the  assurance  that,  in  his  opinion,  the  comfort  which  sur- 
rounds his  later  days  is  owing  entirely  to  you.  His  actual 
expression,  though  not  refined,  was  forcible,  and  Martha 
thinks  you  would  like  to  hear  it: 

" '  I  was  a-livin'  a  hog's  life,  an'  I  should  ha'  died  a  hog's 
death  if  it  hadn't  been  for  that  gal.' 

"  I  trust  your  dear  mother  will  not  think  it  coarse  to  have 
repeated  these  words.  There  is  something  in  the  very  men- 
tion of  swine  that  is  repugnant  to  ears  polite,  but  Martha  was 
of  the  opinion  that  you  would  prefer  to  have  the  message 
in  his  own  words.  And  I  am  bound  to  say  that  Galusha 
Pennypacker,  though  undoubtedly  an  eccentric,  is  a  thoroughly 
well-intentioned  person." 

"  Dear  Cousin  Wealthy  !  "  said  Hildegarde,  as 
she  folded  the  delicate  sheet  and  put  it  back 
into  its  pearl-gray  envelope  with  the  silver  seal. 
"  It  must  have  cost  her  an  effort  to  repeat 
Mr.  Penny  packer's  words.  Poor  old  man !  I 
am  glad  he  is  comfortable.  I  must  send  him 
a  little  box  at  Christmas,  —  some  little  things 
to  trim  up  his  new  house  and  prettify  it. 
Oh !  and  now,  Bell,  now  for  your  letter !  I 
have  kept  it  for  the  last,  my  dear,  as  if  it 


14  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

were  raisins  or  chocolate,  only  it  is  better  than 
either." 

The  fat  square  envelope  that  she  now  opened 
contained  several  sheets  of  paper,  closely  cov- 
ered, every  page  filled  from  top  to  bottom  with 
a  small,  firm  handwriting,  but  no  line  of  cross- 
ing. The  Merryweathers  were  not  allowed  to 
cross  their  letters,  under  penalty  of  being  con- 
demned to  write  entirely  on  postal  cards.  Let 
us  peep  over  Hildegarde's  shoulder,  and  see 
what  Bell  has  to  say. 

"  DEAREST  HILDEGARDE  : 

"  It  is  two  full  weeks  since  I  have  written,  and  I  am 
ashamed ;  but  it  is  simply  because  they  have  been  full  weeks, 
—  very  full!  There  is  so  much  to  tell  you,  I  hardly  know 
where  to  begin.  A  week  ago  to-night  our  play  came  off,  — 
'  The  Mouse  Trap.'  It  went  beautifully,  —  not  a  hitch  any- 
where, though  we  had  only  had  five  rehearsals.  I  was  Willis, 
as  I  told  you.  I  wore  my  ulster  without  the  cape,  and  really 
looked  quite  masculine,  I  think.  I  had  a  curly,  dark-brown 
wig  (my  hair  tucked  down  my  neck,  —  it  didn't  show  at 
all !)  and  the  prettiest  little  moustache  !  Marion  Wilson  was 
Amy,  and  she  screamed  most  delightfully.  In  fact,  they  all 
screamed  in  such  a  natural  and  heartfelt  way,  that  some  of 
the  ladies  in  the  audience  seemed  to  feel  quite  uncomfortable, 
and  I  am  sure  I  saw  Madame  Mirabelle  tuck  her  skirts  close 


BELL  S    LETTER. 


THE    MORNING   MAIL.  15 

around  her  feet,  and  put  her  feet  up  on  the  bench  in  front  of 
her.  Well,  we  all  did  our  best,  though  Clarice  Hamrrfond 
was  the  best ;  she  is  a  born  actress !  and  the  audience  was 
very  cordial,  and  we  were  called  before  the  curtain  five  times ; 
and  altogether  it  was  a  great  success.  I  enclose  a  flower  from 
a  bouquet  that  was  thrown  at  me.  It  was  a  beauty,  and  it 
struck  me  right  on  the  head.  I  thought  it  was  for  Clarice, 
and  was  going  to  hand  it  to  her,  but  somebody  in  the  audi- 
ence cried  out,  <  Why  don't  you  speak  for  yourself,  Willis  ? ' 
and  everybody  laughed,  and  they  said  it  was  really  for  me,  so 
I  kept  it,  and  was  pleased  and  proud.  I  have  pressed  two  or 
three  flowers  in  my  blue-print  book,  with  the  pictures  of  the 
play.  I  am  going  to  send  you  some  as  soon  as  I  can  print 
some  more.  The  girls  snatched  all  the  first  batch,  so  that  I 
have  not  a  single  one  left. 

"  Let  me  see !  What  comes  next  ?  Oh,  next  you  must  hear 
about  my  surprise  party.  I  was  in  my  room  one  evening, 
grinding  hard  at  my  Greek  (do  you  think  your  mother  would 
object  to  « grinding  ? '  It  is  such  old,  respectable  college  slang, 
mamma  allows  it  once  in  a  while),  when  I  heard  whispering 
and  giggling  in  the  hall  outside.  I  don't  mind  telling  you, 
my  dear,  that  my  heart  sank,  for  I  had  a  good  lot  of  Pindar 
to  do,  and  there  is  no  sense  in  shirking  one's  lessons.  But  I 
went  to  the  door  with  as  good  a  grace  as  I  could,  and  there 
was  our  dear  Gerty,  and  Clara  Lyndon,  and  three  or  four 
other  girls  from  Miss  Russell's  school.  They  said  they  had 
double  permission,  from  Miss  Russell  at  that  end,  and  Mrs. 
Tower  at  this,  to  come  and  give  me  a  surprise  party ;  and  here 
they  were,  and  they  were  coming  in  whether  I  liked  it  or  not. 


16  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Of  course  I  did  like  it  after  the  first  minute,  for  they  were  all 
so  dear  and  jolly.  They  had  borrowed  chairs  as  they  came 
along  through  the  hall,  and  one  had  her  pocket  full  of  spoons, 
and  another  had  a  basket,  —  oh,  but  I  am  getting  on  too 
fast.  Well,  Gerty  and  I  sat  on  the  bed,  and  the  others  on  the 
chairs,  and  we  chattered  away,  and  I  heard  all  the  school  news. 
Then  presently  Mabel  Norton  opened  a  basket,  and  took  out 
—  oh,  Hilda!  the  most  beautiful,  beautiful  rose-bush,  simply 
covered  with  blossoms.  It  was  for  me,  with  a  card  from 
Miss  Russell  and  the  whole  school ;  and  when  I  asked  what 
it  all  meant,  why,  it  seems  that  this  was  the  anniversary  of 
the  day  last  year  when  I  pulled  a  little  girl  out  of  the  river, 
down  near  the  mill-dam.  It  was  the  simplest  thing  in  the 
world  to  do,  for  any  one  who  was  strong  and  knew  how  to 
tread  water ;  but  these  dear  people  had  remembered  the  date, 
and  had  done  this  lovely  thing  to  —  well,  Hilda,  I  didn't 
cry  that  evening,  but  somehow  I  want  to  now,  when  I  come 
to  tell  you  about  it.  You  will  understand !  It  is  so  lovely  to 
have  such  dear,  kind  friends,  that  I  cannot  help  it.  Well, 
then  out  of  another  basket  came  a  most  wonderful  cream 
tart,  with  my  initials  on  it  in  caramel,  and  a  whole  lot, 
dozens  and  dozens,  of  the  little  sponge-cakes  that  I  am  so 
fond  of.  They  cannot  make  them  anywhere  in  the  world,  I 
think,  except  at  Miss  Russell's,  and  dear  good  Miss  Gary,  the 
housekeeper,  remembered  that  I  was  fond  of  them.  Oh,  and 
a  huge  box  of  marshmallows ;  and  we  all  knew  what  that 
meant.  Marshmallows  are  the  —  what  shall  I  say  ?  —  the  un- 
official emblem  of  Miss  Russell's  school;  and  soon  two  or 
three  were  toasting  over  the  gas  on  hat-pins,  and  I  was  cut- 


THE   MOKNING   MAIL.  IT 

ting  the  tart,  and  Gerty  was  handing  round  the  sponge- 
cakes, and  we  were  all  as  happy  as  possible.  I  ran  and 
asked  the  girls  along  the  hall  to  come  in,  and  as  many  of 
them  did  come  as  could  get  in  the4  door,  and  the  rest  sat 
in  a  semicircle  on  the  floor  in  the  hall,  and  we  sang  every- 
thing we  could  think  of.  All  of  a  sudden  we  heard  a  knock- 
ing at  the  window.  I  ran  and  looked  out,  and  there  was 
something  hanging  and  bobbing  against  the  glass.  I  opened 
the  window,  and  drew  in  a  basket,  full  of  all  kinds  of  things, 
oranges  and  bananas  and  candy,  with  a  card,  « Compliments 
of  the  Third  Floor ! '  So  of  course  I  was  running  up  to 
thank  them,  and  say  how  sorry  we  were  that  there  was  not 
room  for  them,  when  I  almost  ran  plump  into  Mrs.  Tower, 
who  was  coming  along  the  entry,  very  stately  and  superb. 
She  had  heard  all  about  it,  and  she  came  to  say  that,  if  we 
liked,  we  might  dance  for  half  an  hour  in  the  parlour.  You 
can  imagine  —  no,  you  cannot,  for  you  never  were  at  college  ! 
—  the  wild  rush  down  those  stairs.  We  called  the  third  floor 
(they  are  mostly  freshmen),  and  they  came  careering  down  like 
a  herd  of  ponies ;  and  the  first  floor  came  out  of  their  studies 
when  they  heard  the  music,  and  we  had  the  wildest,  merriest, 
most  enchanting  dance  for  just  half  an  hour.  Then  it  was 
hurry-scurry  off,  for  Miss  Russell's  girls  were  on  the  very  edge 
of  their  time  allowance,  and  had  to  run  most  of  the  way 
home  (it  is  only  a  very  little  way,  and  one  of  the  maids  had 
come  with  them,  and  waited  for  them).  And  we  all  thanked 
Mrs.  Tower  as  prettily  as  we  knew  how,  and  she  said  pleasant 
things,  and  then  some  of  the  girls  helped  me  to  take  back 
the  chairs  and  straighten  things  up  generally.  So  the  great 


18  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

frolic  was  over,  and  most  delightful  it  was ;  but,  my  dear,  I 
had  to  get  up  at  five  o'clock  to  finish  my  Greek  next  morning, 
and  the  ground  floor  was  not  much  better  off  with  its  phi- 
losophy. And  now  there  are  no  more  gaieties,  for  the  exam- 
inations are  « on,'  and  we  must  buckle  to  our  work  in  good 
earnest.  I  don't  expect  to  have  much  trouble,  as  I  have  kept 
up  pretty  well ;  but  there  is  enough  for  any  one  to  do,  no 
matter  how  well  up  she  is.  So  this  is  the  last  letter  you  will 
have,  my  dear,  before  the  happy  day  that  brings  us  all  out 
to  the  beloved  Pumpkin  House.  Oh,  what  a  glorious  time 
we  shall  have,  all  together  once  more !  Roger  is  still  out 
West,  but  hopes  to  get  back  -for  the  last  part  of  the  holidays, 
at  least;  and  Phil's  and  Jerry's  vacation  begins  two  days 
before  Gerty's  and  mine.  Altogether,  the  prospect  is  en- 
chanting, and  one  of  the  very  best  parts  of  it  is  the  seeing 
you  again,  dear  Hilda.  Only  three  weeks  more!  Gerty 
paints  a  star  on  her  screen  for  every  day  that  is  gone.  Funny 
little  Gerty !  Give  my  love  to  your  mother,  please,  and  be- 
lieve me  always,  dear  Hilda, 

"  Your  affectionate 

"  ISABEL  MERRYWEATHER." 

Hildegarde  gave  a  half-sigh,  as  she  finished 
this  letter,  and  walked N  on  in  silence,  thinking 
many  things.  Bell's  life  seemed  very  free  and 
full  and  joyous;  it  suited  her  exactly,  the  strong, 
sensible,  merry  girl ;  and  oh,  how  much  she  was 
learning !  This  letter  said  little  about  studies, 


THE   MORNING   MAIL.  19 

but  Hildegarde  knew  from  former  ones  how 
much  faithful  work  was  going  on,  and  how 
firm  a  foundation  of  scholarship  and  thorough- 
ness her  friend  was  laying. 

"  Whereas  I,"  she  said  aloud,  "  am  as  igno- 
rant as  a  hedge-sparrow." 

As  she  spoke,  a  sparrow  hopped  upon  a  twig 
close  by  her,  and  cocked  his  bright  eye  at  her 
expressively. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon !  "  said  Hildegarde,  hum- 
bly. "  No  doubt  you  are  right,  and  I  am 
a  hundred  times  more  ignorant.  I  could  not 
even  imagine  how  to  build  a  nest ;  but  neither 
can  you  crack  a  nut  —  ask  Mr.  Emerson  !  — 
or  play  the  piano." 

The  sparrow  chirped  defiance,  flirted  his  tail 
saucily,  and  was  gone. 

"  And  all  girls  cannot  be  students !  "  said  Hil- 
degarde, stopping  to  address  a  young  maple  that 
looked  strong-minded.  "  Everybody  cannot  go 
to  college ;  there  must  be  some  who  are  to  be 
just  girls, —  plain  girls,  —  and  stay  at  home. 
As  for  a  girl  going  to  college  when  there  is 
only  herself  to  —  to  help  make  a  home  — 


20  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

why,  —  she  might  as  well  be  Nero,  and  done 
with  it." 

She  nodded  at  the  maple-tree,  as  if  she  had 
settled  it  entirely,  and  walked  on  more  quickly ; 
the  cloud  —  it  was  a  slight  one,  but  still  a  cloud 
—  vanished  from  her  brow,  leaving  it  clear  and 
sunny. 

"  The  place  one  is  in,"  she  said,  "  is  the  place 
to  be  happy  in.  Of  course  I  do  miss  them  all ; 
of  —  course  —  I  do  !  but  if  ever  any  girl  ought 
to  be  thankful  on  her  knees  all  day  long  for 
blessings  and  happinesses,  Hildegarde  Grahame, 
why,  you  know  who  she  is,  and  that  she  does 
not  spell  her  name  Tompkins." 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    CHRISTMAS    DRAWER. 

CHRISTMAS  was  coming.  Christmas  was  only 
three  weeks  off.  Oh,  how  the  time  was  flying  ! 
"  How  shall  I  ever  get  ready  ? "  cried  Hilde- 
garde,  quickening  her  pace  as  she  spoke,  as  if 
the  holiday  season  were  chasing  her  along  the 
road. 

"  One  is  always  busy,  of  course ;  but  it  does 
seem  as  if  I  were  going  to  be  about  five  times 
as  busy  as  I  ever  was  before.  Naturally  !  there 
are  so  many  more  people  that  I  want  to  make 
presents  for.  Last  Christmas,  there  was  Mam- 
mina,  and  Col.  Ferrers  and  Hugh,  and  the  box 
to  send  to  Jack,  —  dear  Jack  ! —  and  Auntie,  and 
Mrs.  Lankton  and  the  children,  and,  —  well,  of 
course,  Cousin  Wealthy  and  Benny,  and  all  the 
dear  people  at  Bywood,  —  why,  there  were  a 
good  many,  after  all,  weren't  there  ?  But  now 
I  have  all  my  Merryweathers  hi  addition,  you 


22  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

see.  Of  course  I  needn't  give  anything  to  the 
boys,  —  or  to  any  of  them,  for  that  matter, — 
but  I  do  want  to,  so  very  much ;  if  only  there 
were  a  little  more  time  !  I  will  go  up  this  min- 
ute, if  Mammina  does  not  want  me,  and  look 
over  my  drawer.  I  really  haven't  looked  at  it 
—  thoroughly,  that  is  —  for  three  days  !  Hilda 
Grahame,  what  a  goose  you  are  !  " 

By  this  time  she  had  arrived  at  Braeside,  the 
pretty  house  where  she  and  her  mother  passed 
their  happy,  quiet  life.  Running  lightly  up  the 
steps,  and  into  the  house,  the  girl  peeped  into 
the  sitting-room  and  parlour,  and  finding  both 
empty,  went  on  up  the  stairs.  She  paused  to 
listen  at  her  mother's  door ;  there  was  no  sound 
from  within,  and  Hildegarde  hoped  that  her 
mother  was  sleeping  off  the  headache,  which 
had  made  the  morning  heavy  for  her.  Kiss- 
ing her  hand  to  the  door,  she  went  on  to  her 
own  room,  which  always  greeted  her  as  a  friend, 
no  matter  how  many  times  a  day  she  entered  it. 
She  looked  round  at  books  and  pictures  with  a 
little  sigh  of  contentment,  and  sank  down  for 
a  moment  in  the  low  rocking-chair.  "Just  to 


THE   CHRISTMAS   DRAWER.  23 

breathe,  you  know  !  "  she  said.  "  One  must 
breathe  to  live."  Involuntarily  her  hand  moved 
towards  the  low  table  close  by,  on  which  lay  a 
tempting  pile  of  books.  Just  one  chapter  of 
"  The  Fortunes  of  Nigel,"  while  she  was  get- 
ting her  breath  ? 

"  No,"  she  said,  replying  to  herself  with  sever- 
ity, "  nothing  of  the  kind.  You  can  rest  just 
as  well  while  you  are  looking  over  the  drawer. 
I  am  surprised,  —  or  rather,  I  wish  I  were  sur- 
prised at  you,  Hilda  Grahame.  You  are  a  hard 
case ! " 

Exchanging  a  glance  of  mutual  sympathy 
and  understanding  with  Sir  Walter  Scott,  who 
looked  down  on  her  benignly  from  the  wall, 
Hildegarde  now  drew  her  chair  up  beside  a  tall 
chest  of  drawers,  and  proceeded  to  open  the 
lowest  drawer,  which  was  as  deep  and  wide  as 
the  whole  of  some  modern  bureaus.  It  was 
half  filled  with  small  objects,  which  she  now 
took  out  one  by  one,  looking  them  over  care- 
fully before  laying  them  back.  First  came  a 
small  table-cover  of  heavy  buff  linen,  beautifully 
embroidered  with  nasturtiums  in  the  brilliant 


24  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

natural  colors.  It  was  really  a  thing  of  beauty, 
and  the  girl  looked  at  it  first  with  natural  pride, 
then  went  over  it  carefully,  examining  the  work- 
manship of  each  bud  and  blossom. 

"  It  will  pass  muster  !  "  she  said,  finally.  "  It 
is  well  done,  if  I  do  say  it ;  the  Beloved  Per- 
fecter  will  be  satisfied,  I  think." 

This  was  for  her  mother,  of  course ;  and  she 
laid  it  back,  rolled  smoothly  round  a  pasteboard 
tube,  and  covered  with  white  tissue  paper,  be- 
fore she  went  on  to  another  article.  Next  came 
a  shawl,  like  an  elaborate  collection  of  snow- 
flakes  that  had  flitted  together,  yet  kept  their 
exquisite  shapes  of  star  and  wheel  and  triangle. 
Cousin  Wealthy  would  be  pleased  with  this ! 
Hildegarde  felt  the  same  pleasant  assurance  of 
success.  "  There  ought  to  be  a  bit  of  pearl- 
coloured  satin  ribbon  somewhere !  Oh,  here  it 
is !  A  bit  of  ribbon  gives  a  finish  that  nothing 
else  can.  There !  now  that  is  ready,  and  that 
makes  two.  Now,  Benny,  my  blessed  lamb, 
where  are  you?" 

She  drew  out  a  truly  splendid  scrap-book, 
bound  in  heavy  cardboard,  and  marked  "  Benny's 


THE   CHRISTMAS   DRAWER.  25 

Book/'  with  many  flourishes  and  curlicues. 
Within  were  pictures  of  every  imaginable  kind, 
the  coloured  ones  on  white,  the  black  and  white 
on  scarlet  cardboard.  Under  every  picture  was 
a  legend  in  Hildegarde's  hand,  in  prose  or  verse. 
For  example,  under  a  fine  portrait  of  an  impos- 
ing black  cat  was  written : 

"  Is  this  Benny's  pillow-cat  ? 
No !  it  is  not  half  so  fat ! 
No !  it  is  not  half  so  fair, 
So  it  mews  in  sad  despair, 
Feeling  that  it  has  not  any 
Chance  for  to  belong  to  Benny." 

Hildegarde  had  spent  many  loving  hours  over 
this  book ;  her  verses  were  not  remarkable,  but 
Benny  would  like  them  none  the  less  for  that, 
she  thought,  and  she  laid  the  book  back  with 
a  contented  mind.  Then  there  was  a  noble 
apron  for  Martha,  with  more  pockets  than  any 
one  else  in  the  world  could  use ;  and  a  pin- 
cushion for  Mrs.  Brett,  and  a  carved  tobacco- 
stopper  for  Jeremiah.  Beside  the  tobacco-stopper 
lay  a  pipe,  also  carved  neatly,  and  Hildegarde 
took  this  up  with  a  sigh.  "  I  don't  like  to  part 


26  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

with  it !  "  she  said.  "  Papa  brought  it  from 
Berne,  all  those  years  ago,  and  I  am  so  used  to 
it ;  but  after  all,  I  am  not  likely  to  smoke  a 
pipe,  even  if  I  have  succumbed  to  the  bicycle, 
and  I  do  want  to  send  some  little  thing  to  dear 
Mr.  Hartley.  Dear  old  soul !  how  I  should  like 
to  see  him  and  Marm  Lucy !  We  really  must 
make  a  pilgrimage  to  Hartley's  Glen  next  sum- 
mer, if  it  is  a  possible  thing.  Marm  Lucy  will 
like  this  little  blue  jug,  I  know.  We  have  the 
same  taste  in  blue  jugs,  and  she  will  not  care 
a  bit  about  its  only  costing  fifteen  cents.  Ah ! 
if  everything  one  wanted  to  buy  cost  fifteen 
cents,  one  would  not  be  so  distracted ;  but  I 
do  want  to  get  '  Robin  Hood '  for  Hugh,  and 
where  am  I  to  get  the  three  dollars,  I  ask 
you?" 

She  addressed  William  the  Silent ;  the  hero 
drew  her  attention,  in  his  quiet  way,  to  his 
own  sober  dress  and  simple  ruff,  and  seemed  to 
think  that  Hugh  would  be  just  as  well  off  with- 
out the  record  of  a  ruffling  knave  who  wore 
Lincoln  green,  and  was  not  particular  how  he 
came  by  it. 


THE   CHRISTMAS   DRAWER.  27 

"  Ah !  but  that  is  all  you  know,  dear  sir !  " 
said  Hildegarde.  "  We  all  have  our  limitations, 
and  if  you  had  only  known  Robin,  you  would 
see  how  right  I  am." 

And  then  Hildegarde  fell  a-dreaming,  and 
imagined  a  tea-party  that  she  might  give,  to 
which  should  come  William  of  Orange  and 
Robin  Hood,  Alan  Breck  Stuart  and  Jim 
Hawkins. 

"  And  who  else  ?  let  me  see !  Hugh,  of 
course,  and  Jack,  if  he  were  here,  and  the 
boys  and — and  Captain  Roger;  only  I  am 
afraid  he  would  think  it  nonsense.  But  Bell 
would  love  it,  and  I  would  invite  Dundee,  just 
to  show  her  how  wrong  she  is  about  him. 
And  —  oh,  none  of  the  King  Arthur  knights, 
because  they  had  no  sense  of  humour,  and  Alan 
would  be  at  their  throats  in  five  minutes ;  but 

—  why,  I  have  left  out  David  Balfour  himself, 

—  Roger    would    love    David,    anyhow,  —  and 
Robin  might  bring  Little  John  and  Will  Scarlet 
and  Allan- a-Dale.     We  would  have  tea  out  on 
the    veranda,    of    course,    and    Auntie    would 
make  one  of  her  wonderful  chicken  pies,  and 


28  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

I  would  ask  Robin  whether  it  was  not  just 
as  good  as  a  venison  pasty.  Alan  would  have 
his  hand  at  his  sword,  ready  to  leap  up  if  it 
was  denied ;  but  jolly  Robin  would  make  me 
a  courtly  bow,  and  say  with  his  own  merry 
smile  —  Come  in!  oh!  what  is  it?" 

Rudely  awakened  from  her  pleasant  dream 
by  a  knock  at  the  door,  Hildegarde  looked 
-up,  half  expecting  to  see  one  of  her  heroes 
standing  cap  in  hand  before  her.  Instead, 
there  stood,  ducking  and  sidling, —  the  Widow 
Lankton. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Lankton  ? "  said 
Hildegarde,  with  an  effort.  It  was  a  sudden 
change,  indeed,  from  Robin  Hood  and  Alan 
Breck,  to  this  forlorn  little  body,  with  her 
dingy  black  dress  and  crumpled  bonnet ;  but 
Hildegarde  tried  to  "  look  pleasant,"  and  waited 
patiently  for  the  outpouring  that  she  knew  she 
must  expect. 

"  6r0o<i-mornm',  dear ! "  said  the  widow, 
ducking  a  little  further  to  one  side,  so  that 
she  looked  like  an  apologetic  crab  in  mourning 
for  his  claws.  "I  hope  your  health  is  good, 


THE    CHRISTMAS   DRAWER.  29 

Miss  Grahame.  There !  you  look  pretty  well, 
I  must  say !  " 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  sorry,  Mrs.  Lankton," 
smiling ;  for  the  tone  was  that  of  heartfelt 
sorrow. 

"  No,  dear !  why,  no,  certainly  not !  I'm 
pleased  enough  to  have  you  look  young  and 
bloomin'  while  you  can.  Looks  ain't  allers 
what  we'd  oughter  go  by,  but  we  must  take 
'em  and  be  thankful  for  so  much,  as  I  allers 
say.  Yes,  dear.  Your  blessed  mother's  lyin' 
down,  Mis'  Auntie  told  me.  She  seems  slim 
now,  don't  she  ?  If  I  was  in  your  place,  I 
should  be  dretful  anxious  about  her,  alone  in 
the  world  as  you'd  be  if  she  was  took.  The 
Lord's  ways  is  —  " 

"  Did  you  want  to  see  me  about  anything 
special,  Mrs.  Lankton  ?  "  said  Hildegarde,  inter- 
rupting. She  felt  that  she  was  not  called  upon 
to  bear  this  kind  of  thing. 

The  widow  sniffed  sadly  and  shook  her  head. 

"  Yes,  dear !  You're  quick  and  light,  ain't 
you,  as  young  folks  be !  Like  to  brisk  up  and 
have  done  with  a  thing.  Well,  I  come  to  see 


30  HILDEGARDE'S  HARVEST. 

if  I  could  borry  a  crape  bunnit,  to  go  to  a 
funeral ;  there,  Miss  Grahame,  I  hope  you 
won't  think  me  forth-puttin',  but  I  felt  that 
anything  your  blessed  ma  had  worn  would 
be  a  privilege,  I'm  sure,  and  so  regardin'  it, 
I  come." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Hildegarde,  with  a  little  shudder. 
"  We  —  we  have  no  crape,  Mrs.  Lankton.  My 
father  —  that  is,  my  mother  never  wore  it." 

"  Didn't !  "  said  Mrs.  Lankton.  "  Well,  now, 
folks  has  their  views.  I  was  one  that  never 
liked  to  spare  where  feelin's  was  concerned. 
Ah  !  I've  wore  crape  enough  in  my  time  to 
bury  me  under,  you  might  say.  When  my 
poor  husband  died,  I  got  a  veil  measured  three 
yards,  countin'  the  hem ;  good  crape  it  was, 
too.  There !  I  took  and  showed  it  to  him 
the  day  before  he  was  took.  He'd  been  failin' 
up  quite  a  spell,  and  I  was  never  one  to  hide 
their  end  from  them  that  was  comin'  to  it. 
'  There,  Peleg ! '  says  I.  '  I  want  you  should 
know  that  I  sha'n't  slight  nothin'  when  you're 
gone,'  I  says.  '  I'll  keep  you  as  long  as  I 
can/  I  says,  'and  I'll  have  everything  right 


THE    CHRISTMAS   DRAWER.  31 

and  fittin'  as  far  as  my  means  goes/  I  says. 
He  was  real  gratified.  I  was  glad  to  please 
him,  goin'  so  soon  as  he  was. 

"  He  turned  up  his  toes  less  than  twenty-four 
hours  after  I  said  them  words  ;  died  off  real 
nice.  His  moniment  is  handsome,  if  I  do  say 
it.  I  have  it  scrubbed  every  spring,  come  house- 
cleanin'  time,  and  it  looks  as  good  as  new.  Yes, 
dear !  I've  got  a  great  deal  to  be  thankful  for, 
if  I  have  suffered  more  than  most." 

Hildegarde  set  her  teeth.  Inwardly  she  was 
saying, "  You  dreadful  old  ghoul !  When  will  you 
stop  your  grisly  recollections,  and  go  away?" 
But  all  she  said  aloud  was,  "  Well,  Mrs.  Lank- 
ton,  I  am  sorry  that  we  cannot  help  you.  Per- 
haps one  of  the  neighbours,  —  but  I  ought  to  ask, 
—  I  trust  it  is  no  near  relative  that  is  dead  ?  " 

"  No,  dear !  "  replied  the  widow,  with  unction. 
"  No  relation,  only  by  marriage.  My  sister's 
husband  married  this  man's  sister  for  his  third 
wife ;  old  man  Topliffe  it  is,  keeps  the  grocery 
over  t'  the  Corners." 

"  Why,  I  did  not  know  he  was  dead ! "  said 
Hildegarde. 


HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  Not  yet  he  ain't,  dear !  "  said  Mrs.  Lankton. 
"  But  he's  doomed  to  die,  and  the  doctors  don't 
give  him  more  than  a  few  hours.  I'm  one  that 
likes  to  be  beforehand  in  such  matters,  —  there's 
them  that  looks  to  me  to  do  what's  right  and 
proper,  —  and  I  shouldn't  want  to  be  found  with- 
out a  bunnit  provided.  Well,  dear,  I  must  be 
goin'.  Ah!  'twill  seem  nat'ral  to  be  goin'  to  a 
funeral  again,  Miss  Grahame.  I  ain't  b'en  to  one 
for  as  much  as  five  months.  I've  seen  the  time 
when  three  funerals  a  week  was  no  uncommon 
thing  round  these  parts,  and  most  all  of  'em  kin 
to  me  by  blood  or  marriage.  Yes,  no  one  knows 
what  I've  b'en  through.  You're  gettin'  fleshy, 
ain't  you,  dear  ?  I  hope  the  Lord'll  spare  you 
and  your  ma,  —  she's  like  a  mother  to  me,  I 
allers  say,  —  through  my  time.  It  ain't  likely 
to  be  long,  with  these  spells  that  ketches  me. 
Gfood-by,  dear ! " 

With  a  tender  smile,  and  another  sidelong 
duck,  the  widow  took  herself  oft' ;  and  Hilde- 
garde  drew  a  long  breath,  and  felt  like  opening 
all  the  windows,  to  let  the  sunshine  come  in  more 
freely.  The  door  of  her  room  being  still  open, 


THE    CHRISTMAS    DRAWER.  33 

she  became  aware  of  sounds  from  below  ;  sounds 
as  of  clashing  metal,  and  rattling  crockery. 

What  could  Auntie  be  about  ?  she  would  wake 
Mamma  at  this  rate. 

Running  down-stairs,  Hildegarde  went  into  the 
kitchen,  and  was  confronted  by  the  sight  of 
Auntie,  perched  on  top  of  a  tall  step-ladder, 
with  the  upper  part  of  her  portly  person  buried 
in  the  depths  of  a  cupboard. 

"  Auntie,  what  are  you  about  ? "  she  cried. 
"  Do  you  know  what  a  noise  you  are  making  ? 
Mamma  is  asleep,  and  I  don't  want  her  to 
wake  till  tea-time,  for  her  head  has  ached  all 
day." 

Auntie  did  not  seem  to  hear  at  first,  but  con- 
tinued to  rattle  tins  in  an  alarming  way  ;  till 
Hildegarde,  in  despair,  grasped  the  step-ladder, 
and  shook  it  with  some  force.  Then  the  good 
woman  drew  her  head  out  of  the  depths,  and 
looked  down  in  astonishment. 

"  Why,  for  goodness  sake,  honey,  is  dat  you  ?  " 
she  said.  "  I  fought  'twas  dat  old  image  cack- 
lin'  at  me  still.  She  gone,  is  she  ?  well,  dat's 
mercy  enough  for  one  day !  " 


34  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

She  sat  down  on  the  top  of  the  ladder  and 
panted;  and  Hildegarde  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Auntie,  did  you  go  up  there  to  get  rid  of 
Mrs.  Lankton  ?  " 

"  For  shore  I  did,  chile  !  I'd  ha'  riz  through 
de  roof  if  I  could,  but  dis  was  as  fur  as  I  could 
git.  She  was  in  hyar  an  hour,  'most,  'fore  she 
went  up-stairs,  —  and  I  told  her  not  go  near  you, 
but  she  snoke  up,  and  I  dassn't  holler,  fear  ob 
waking  yer  ma,  —  and  my  head  is  loose  on  my 
shoulders  now,  listenin'  to  her  clack.  So  when 
I  hear  her  comin'  down  again,  I  jest  put  up  de 
ladder  here,  and  I  didn't  hear  no  word  she  said. 
Did  she  hab  de  imp'dence  to  ask  you  lend  her  a 
crape  bunnit  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  that  is  what  she  came  for.  We  had 
none,  of  course." 

Auntie  snorted.  "  None  ob  her  business 
whedder  you  had  none  or  a  hunderd ! "  she 
Baid.  "  I  tole  her  if  she  ask  you  dat,  I'd  pull 
her  own  bunnit  offn  her  next  time  she  come; 
and  I  will  so  !  " 

"  Oh,  no,  you  won't,  Auntie !  "  said  Hildegarde. 

"Well,   now,  you'll   see,   Miss   Hildy  chile! 


THE   CHRISTMAS   DRAWER.  35 

I  had  'miff  ob  dat  woman.  Ole  barn-cat,  comin' 
snoopin'  round  here  to  see  what  she  can  git 
out'n  you  and  yer  ma,  'cause  she  sees  yer  like 
two  chillen.  What  yer  want  for  supper,  honey, 
waffles,  or  corn-pone  ?  " 

"  Waffles,"  said  Hildegarde,  with  decision. 
"  But  —  Auntie,  what  have  you  there  ?  No,  not 
the  pitcher;  those  little  tin  things  that  you 
just  laid  down.  I  want  to  see  them,  please." 

"  I  been  rummagin'  dis  shelf,"  said  Auntie. 
"  I  put  a  lot  ob  odd  concerns  up  here,  — 
foun'  em  in  de  place  when  we  come,  —  and 
dey  ain't  no  good,  and  I  want  de  room.  Dose  ? 
Dem's  little  moulds,  I  reckon.  Well,  now,  I 
don't  seem  as  if  I  noticed  dem  before.  Kin' 
o'  pretty,  ain't  dey,  honey  ?  " 

She  handed  down  a  set  of  tin  moulds,  of 
fairy  size  and  quaint,  pretty  shapes.  Tulips, 
lilies,  crocuses,  —  "  Why,  it  is  a  tin  flower-bed !  " 
cried  Hildegarde.  "  Why  did  you  never  show 
me  these  before,  Auntie  ?  " 

But  Auntie  was  not  conscious  of  having  no- 
ticed them  before.  She  had  cleaned  them, — 
of  course,  —  but  her  mind  must  have  been 


36  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

on  her  cooking,  and  she  did  not  remember 
them. 

"  And  what  could  one  do  with  them  ?  "  Hilde- 
garde  went  on.  "  Oh,  see !  here  is  a  scrap  of 
parchment  fastened  to  the  ring  of  one  of  them. 
'  The  moulds  for  the  almond  cakes.  The  receipt 
is  in  the  manuscript  book  with  yellow  covers.' 
Why,  how  interesting  this  is !  Almond  cakes ! 
It  sounds  delightful !  Do  you  remember  where 
I  put  that  queer  old  book,  Auntie  ?  You  thought 
the  receipts  so  extravagant  that  I  have  not 
used  it  at  all.  Oh !  here  it  is,  in  your  table- 
drawer.  I  might  have  been  sure  that  you 
would  know  exactly  where  it  was.  Now  let  us 
see.  This  may  be  a  special  providence,  Auntie." 

"I  don't  unnerstand  what  you  talkin'  'bout, 
chile,"  said  Auntie,  good-naturedly.  "I  made 
you  almond  cake  last  week,  and  I  guess  dat 
was  good  'nuff,  'thout  lookin'  in  de  grandmother 
books.  But  you  can  see,  —  mebbe  you  find 
somethin'  different." 

Hildegarde  was  already  deep  in  the  old 
manuscript  book.  Its  leaves  were  yellow  with 
age,  the  ink  faded,  but  the  receipts  were  per- 


THE    CHRISTMAS   DRAWER.  87 

fectly  legible,  many  of  the  later  ones  being 
in  Miss  Barbara  Aytoun's  fine,  crabbed,  yet 
plain  hand. 

"  '  Bubble  and  Squeak  ! '  Auntie,  I  wish  you 
would  give  us  Bubble  and  Squeak  for  dinner 
some  day.  You  are  to  make  it  of  cold  beef, 
and  then  at  the  end  of  the  receipt  she  tells 
you  that  pork  is  much  better.  — '  China  Chilo  ! 
Mince  a  pint  basin  of  undressed  neck  of 
mutton ' —  How  is  one  to  mince  a  basin,  do  you 
suppose  ?  I  should  have  to  drop  it  from  the 
roof  of  the  house,  and  then  it  would  not  be 
fine  enough.  — '  Serve  it  fried  of  a  beautiful 
colour ' —  no  !  that's  not  it !  — '  Pigs'  feet.  Wash 
your  feet  thoroughly,  and  boil,  or  rather  stew 
them  gently'  —  Miss  Barbara,  I  am  surprised 
at  you  !  — c  Ramakins '  —  those  might  be  good. 
' Excellent  Negus' — ah!  here  we  are!  'Almond 
cakes  ! '  H'm  !  '  Beat  a  pound  of  almonds  fine  '  — 
and  a  pleasant  thing  it  is  to  do  — '  with  rose 
water  —  half  a  pound  of  sifted  sugar  —  beat 
with  a  spoon '  —  ah,  this  is  the  part  I  was 
looking  for,  Auntie  !  <  Bake  them  in  the  flower- 
moulds,  watching  carefully ;  when  a  beautiful 


38  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

light  gold  colour,  take  them  out,  and  fill  when 
cold  with  cream  into  which  is  beat  shredded 
peaches  or  apricots.'  0  —  oh !  doesn't  that 
sound  good,  Auntie  ?  " 

"  Good  'miff,"  Auntie  assented,  nodding  her 
turbaned  head.  "  Good  deal  of  bodder  to  make, 
'pears  to  me,  Miss  Hildy.  I'm  gittin'  old  for 
de  fancy  cakes,  'pears  like." 

"  Oh,  you  dear  soul !  I  don't  want  you  to 
make  them,"  cried  Hildegarde.  "I  want  to 
make  them  myself.  Now,  Auntie,  I  am  going 
to  be  very  confidential." 

Auntie's  dark  face  glowed  with  pleasure. 
She  loved  a  little  confidence. 

"  You  see,"  Hildegarde  went  on,  "  I  want 
some  money.  Not  that  I  don't  have  enough 
for  everything;  but  I  want  to  earn  a  little 
myself,  so  that  I  can  make  all  the  Christmas 
presents  I  want,  without  feeling  that  I  am 
taking  it  out  of  the  family  purse.  You  under- 
stand, I  am  sure,  Auntie !  "  and  Auntie,  whc 
had  held  Hildegarde  in  her  arms  when  she 
was  a  baby,  nodded  her  head,  and  understood 
very  well. 


THE    CHRISTMAS   DRAWER.  39 

"  So  I  thought  that  possibly  I  might  make 
something  to  send  to  the  Woman's  Exchange 
in  New  York.  I  saw  in  a  magazine  the  other 
day  that  the  ladies  who  give  a  great  many 
lunches  are  always  wishing  to  find  new  little 
prettinesses  for  their  tables.  I  saw  something  of 
that  myself,  when  I  was  there  this  fall."  But 
Hildegarde  checked  herself,  feeling  that  she  was 
getting  rather  beyond  Auntie's  depth. 

"  And  I  had  been  wondering  what  I  could 
make,  this  very  afternoon,  and  thinking  of  one 
thing  and  another ;  and  when  I  saw  these  pretty 
little  moulds,  it  seemed  the  very  thing  I  had 
been  looking  for.  What  do  you  think,  Auntie  ?  " 

"  T'ink  ?  I  t'ink  dem  Noo  York  ladies  better 
be  t'ankful  to  git  anything  you  make  for  'em, 
Miss  Hildy ;  dat's  my  'pinion  !  And  I'll  help 
ye  make  de  cake,  and  fuss  round  a  little  wid 
de  creams,  too,  if  you  let  me." 

But  Hildegarde  declared  she  would  not  let 
her  have  any  hand  whatever  in  the  making 
of  the  almond  cakes,  and  ran  off,  hearing  her 
mother's  voice  calling  her  from  up-stairs. 

"  My  dear  suz !  "  said  the  black  woman,  gaz- 


40  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

ing  after  her.  "  T'ink  ob  my  little  baby  missy 
growed  into  dat  capable  young  lady,  wat  make 
anything  she  touch  her  finger  to.  Ain't  her 
match  in  Noo  York,  tell  yer ;  no,  nor  Yirginny, 
nudder!" 


CHAPTER  III. 

AUNT   EMILY. 

"  AND  you  really  think  I  would  better  stay 
several  days,  Mammina  ?  I  don't  like  to  leave 
you  alone.  Some  one  might  come  and  carry  you 
off !  How  should  I  feel  if  I  came  back  next  week, 
and  found  you  gone  ?  "  Hildegarde  looked  down 
at  her  mother,  as  she  sat  in  her  low  chair  by 
the  fire ;  she  spoke  playfully,  but  with  an  under- 
tone of  wistfulness.  Mrs.  Grahame  had  grown 
rather  shadowy  in  the  last  year  ;  she  looked 
small  and  pale  beside  Hildegarde' s  slender  but 
robust  figure ;  and  the  girl's  eyes  dwelt  on  her 
with  a  certain  anxiety.  But  nothing  could  be 
brighter  or  more  cheerful  than  Mrs.  Grahame' s 
smile,  nor  could  a  voice  ring  more  merrily  than 
hers  did  as  she  responded  to  Hildegarde's  tone, 
rather  than  her  words. 

"  There  have  been  rumours  of  a  griffin  lurking 
in  the  neighbourhood.  He  is  said  to  have  a 


42  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

particular  fancy  for  old  —  there,  there,  Hilda ! 
don't  kill  me  !  —  well,  for  middle-aged  ladies,  and 
his  preference  is  for  the  small  and  bony.  I  feel 
that  I  am  in  imminent  peril ;  but  still,  under  all 
the  circumstances,  I  prefer  to  abide  my  fate ; 
and  I  think  you  would  decidedly  better  spend 
two  or  three  days  at  least  with  your  Aunt 
Emily.  She  has  never  invited  you  before,  and 
her  note  sounds  pretty  forlorn,  poor  old  lady ! 
Besides,  if  you  really  want  to  do  something  at 
the  Exchange,  you  could  hardly  manage  it  in 
one  day.  So  you  shall  pack  the  small  trunk, 
and  take  an  evening  gown,  and  make  a  little 
combination  trip,  missionary  work  and  money- 
making." 

"And  what  will  you  do?"  asked  Hildegarde, 
still  a  little  wistfully. 

"  Clean  your  room  !  "  replied  her  mother, 
promptly. 

"  Mamma  !  as  if  I  would  let  you  do  that  while 
I  was  away  !  " 

"  Kindly  indicate  how  you  would  prevent  it 
while  you  were  away,  my  dear !  But  indeed, 
I  don't  mean  a  revolutionary,  spring  cleaning  ; 


AUNT   EMILY.  43 

I  just  want  to  have  the  curtains  washed,  and  the 
paint  touched  up  a  little  ;  I  saw  several  places 
where  it  was  getting  shabby.  Indeed,  Hilda,  I 
think  the  trip  to  New  York  is  rather  a  special 
providence,  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Humph  !  "  said  Hildegarde,  looking  suspi- 
ciously at  her  parent.  "  And  while  I  am  gone, 
it  might  be  a  good  plan  to  take  up  the  matting, 
and  re-cover  some  of  the  chairs,  and  have  the 
sofa  done  over,  you  think  ?  " 

"  Exactly  !  "  said  Mrs.  Grahame,  falling  in- 
nocently into  the  trap.  Whereupon  she  was 
pounced  on,  shaken  gently,  embraced  severely, 
and  forbidden  positively  to  attempt  anything  of 
the  kind.  Finally  a  compromise  was  effected, 
allowing  the  washing  of  the  curtains,  but  leav- 
ing the  details  of  painting,  etc.,  till  Hildegarde's 
return ;  and  the  rest  of  the  evening  was  spent 
in  the  ever-pleasant  and  congenial  task  of  mak- 
ing out  a  list. 

"  You  cannot  be  expected  to  make  visits,  of 
course,  dear,  in  so  short  a  stay ;  but  there  are 
one  or  two  people  you  ought  to  see  if  pos- 
sible," said  Mrs.  Grahame. 


44  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Hildegarde  looked  up  apprehensively  from 
her  jottings  of  towels,  gloves,  and  ribbons  to 
be  bought.  Her  mother's  ideas  of  family  duty 
were  largely  developed. 

"  Aunt  Emily  will  expect  you  to  call  on 
Cousin  Amelia,  and  no  doubt  the  girls  will 
come  to  see  you.  Your  Aunt  Anna  is  in  Wash- 
ington." 

"  For  what  we  are  about  to  escape  — "  mur- 
mured the  daughter. 

"  Hildegarde,  I  wonder  at  you !  " 

"  Yes,  dear  mamma !  what  else  were  you  going 
to  say  ?  " 

Mrs.  Grahame  tried  to  look  severe  for  a 
moment,  did  not  succeed,  and  put  the  subject 

by- 

"  Then  there  is  old  Madam  Burlington ;  she 
would  take  it  as  a  kindness  if  you  went  to  see 
her ;  you  need  not  stay  more  than  a  quarter  of 
an  hour.  A  Cranford  call  is  all  that  is  neces- 
sary, but  do  try  to  find  an  hour  to  go  and  sit 
with  poor  Cousin  Harriet  Wither ;  it  cheers  her 
so  to  see  some  young  life.  Poor  Harriet !  she 
is  a  sad  wreck !  You  will  probably  dine  at 


AUNT   EMILY.  45 

your  Cousin  Robert  Grahame's,  and  if  Aunt 
Emily  wishes  you  to  call  on  any  of  the  Delan- 
sings  —  " 

"Were  you  expecting  me  to  stay  away  over 
Christmas?"  inquired  Hildegarde,  calmly. 

"  Why,  darling,  surely  not !  what  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

"  Only  that  you  seem  to  have  started  on  a 
month's  programme,  my  love,  that's  all.  Don't 
look  so,  angel !  I  will  go  to  see  all  of  them ; 
I  will  spend  a  month  with  each  in  turn ;  only 
don't  look  troubled  !  " 

By  and  by  everything  was  settled  as  well  as 
might  be.  Mother  and  daughter  went  to  sleep 
with  peaceful  hearts,  and  the  next  day  Hilde- 
garde departed  for  New  York,  determined  to 
make  as  short  a  visit  as  she  could  in  propriety 
to  Aunt  Emily  Delansing. 

Of  her  reception  by  that  lady  she  herself 
shall  tell: 

"BLESSEDEST    MOTHER  : 

"  As  usual,  you  were  quite  right,  and  I  am  glad  I  came. 
Hobson  was  at  the  station,  and  brought  me  up  here  in  a 
hansom,  and  Aunt  Emily  was  in  the  drawing-room  to  receive 


46  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

me.  She  is  very  kind,  and  seems  glad  to  have  me  here.  I 
have  not  done  much  yet,  naturally,  as  I  have  not  been  here 
two  hours  yet.  I  could  not  let  the  six  o'clock  mail  go  with- 
out sending  you  a  line,  just  to  say  that  I  am  safe  and  well. 
Very  well  indeed,  dearest,  and  no  more  homesick  than  is 
natural,  and  loving  you  more  than  you  can  possibly  imagine. 
But  oh,  the  streets  are  so  noisy,  and  there  are  no  birds,  and 
—  no,  I  will  not!  I  will  be  good.  Good-by,  dearest  and 
best !  Always  your  very  ownest, 

"  HILDA." 

Hilda  sealed  and  addressed  her  letter,  and 
then  rang  the  bell.  A  grave  footman  in  plum- 
coloured  livery  appeared,  received  the  letter  as 
if  it  were  an  official  document  of  terrible  import, 
and  departed.  Then,  when  the  door  was  closed 
and  she  was  alone  again,  Hildegarde  leaned 
back  in  her  chair  and  gave  herself  up  to  reverie. 
Her  eyes  wandered  over  the  room  in  which  she 
was  sitting, — a  typical  city  room,  large  and  lofty, 
with  everything  proper  in  the  way  of  furnishing. 
"  Everything  proper,  and  nothing  interesting  !  " 
said  Hildegarde,  aloud.  The  oak  furniture  was 
like  all  other  oak  furniture ;  the  draperies  were 
irreproachable,  but  without  character;  the  pic- 
tures were  costly,  and  that  was  all. 


AUNT   EMILY,  47 

Rather  wearily  Hildegarde  rose  and  began 
the  somewhat  elaborate  toilet  which  was  neces- 
sary to  please  the  taste  of  the  aunt  with  whom 
she  had  come  to  stay.  Mrs.  Delansing  was  her 
father's  aunt.  Since  Mr.  Grahame's  death,  his 
widow  and  child  had  seen  little  of  her.  She 
considered  their  conduct,  in  moving  to  the 
country,  reprehensible  in  the  extreme,  and  sig- 
nified to  Mrs.  Grahame  that  she  could  never 
regard  her  as  a  sane  woman  again.  Mrs.  Gra- 
hame had  borne  this  affliction  as  bravely  as  she 
might,  and  possibly,  in  the  quietly  happy  years 
that  followed  the  move,  she  and  her  daughter 
did  not  give  much  thought  to  Aunt  Emily  or 
her  wrath.  She  was  well,  and  did  not  need 
them,  and  they  were  able  to  get  on  very  toler- 
ably by  themselves.  Now,  however,  things  had 
happened.  Mrs.  Delansing  was  much  out  of 
health ;  her  own  daughters  were  settled  in  dis- 
tant homes,  and  could  not  leave  their  own 
families  to  be  with  her ;  she  felt  her  friends 
dropping  away  year  by  year,  and  loneliness 
coming  upon  her.  For  the  first  time  in  years, 
Emily  Delansing  felt  the  need  of  some  new  face. 


48  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

some  new  voice,  to  keep  her  from  her  own 
thoughts.  Accordingly  she  had  written  to  Mrs. 
Grahame  a  note  which  meant  to  be  stately,  and 
was  really  piteous,  holding  out  the  olive-branch, 
and  intimating  that  she  should  be  glad  to 
have  a  visit  from  Hildegarde,  unless  her  mother 
thought  it  necessary  to  keep  the  girl  buried 
for  her  whole  life. 

In  replying,  Mrs.  Grahame  did  not  think 
it  necessary  to  reply  to  the  last  remark,  nor 
to  remind  Mrs.  Delansing  that  Hildegarde 
had  spent  a  month  in  New  York  the  winter 
before,  with  an  aunt  on  the  Bond  side,  who 
was  not  in  the  Delansing  set.  She  said  simply 
that  Hildegarde  would  be  very  glad  to  spend 
a  few  days  in  Gramercy  Park,  and  that  she 
might  be  expected  on  the  day  set.  And,  accord- 
ingly, here  Hildegarde  was.  She  had  fully 
agreed  with  her  mother  that  it  was  her  duty 
to  come,  if  Aunt  Emily  really  needed  her ; 
but  she  confessed  to  private  doubts  as  to  the 
reality  of  the  need.  "And  you  do  want  me, 
Mrs.  Grahame,  deny  it  if  you  dare !  "  she  said. 

"  Heigh  ho  !  "  said  Hildegarde  again,  looking 


AUNT   EMILY.  49 

about  her  for  something  to  talk  to,  as  was 
her  way.  "  Well,  so  I  packed  my  trunk,  and 
I  came  away,  and  here  I  am."  She  addressed 
a  small  china  sailor,  who  was  sitting  on  a 
pink  barrel  that  contained  matches. 

"And  if  you  think  I  like  it  so  far,  my 
friend,  why,  you  have  less  intelligence  than 
your  looks  would  indicate.  What  dress  would 
you  put  on,  if  you  were  I  ?  I  think  your 
pink-striped  shirt  would  be  extremely  becoming 
to  me,  but  I  don't  want  to  be  grasping.  You 
advise  the  brown  velveteen  ?  I  approve  of  your 
taste!" 

Hildegarde  nodded  to  the  sailor,  feeling  that 
she  had  made  a  friend ;  and  proceeded  to  array 
herself  in  the  brown  velveteen  gown.  It  was 
a  pretty  gown,  made  half-low,  with  full  elbow- 
sleeves,  and  heavy  old  lace  in  the  neck.  When 
Hildegarde  had  clasped  the  gold  beads  round 
her  slender  neck,  she  felt  that  she  was  well 
dressed,  and  sat  down  with  a  quiet  conscience 
to  read  "  Montcalm  and  Wolfe "  till  dinner- 
time. Presently  came  a  soft  knock  at  the 
door,  and  the  announcement  that  dinner  was 


50  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

served ;  and  Hildegarde  laid  aside  her  book 
and  went  down  to  the  drawing-room. 

Mrs.  Delansing,  seated  in  her  straight,  high- 
backed  armchair,  was  on  the  watch  for  her 
grandniece,  and  scrutinised  her  as  she  came 
through  the  long  room.  Then  she  nodded,  and, 
rising,  laid  her  hand  on  the  arm  that  Hildegarde 
offered  her. 

"  Who  taught  you  to  enter  a  room  ? "  she 
asked,  abruptly.  "  You  have  been  taught,  I 
perceive." 

"  My  mother/'  said  Hildegarde,  quietly. 

"  Humph  !  "  said  Mrs.  Delansing.  "  In  my 
time,  one  of  the  most  important  accomplish- 
ments was  to  enter  a  room  properly.  Nowa- 
days I  see  young  women  skip,  and  shuffle,  and 
amble  into  the  drawing-room  ;  I  do  not  often 
see  one  enter  it  properly.  You  will,  perhaps, 
tell  your  mother  that  I  have  mentioned  this  ; 
she  may  be  gratified." 

Hildegarde  bowed  in  silence,  and  as  they  came 
into  the  dining-room,  took  the  place  to  which 
her  aunt  motioned  her,  at  the  foot  of  the  table. 
It  was  a  long  table,  and  Hildegarde  could  only 


AUNT    EMILY.  51 

see  the  bows  of  Mrs.  Delansing's  cap  over  the 
stately  epergne  that  rose  between  them ;  but 
she  was  conscious  of  the  old  lady's  sharp  black 
eyes  watching  her  through  the  ferns  and  roses. 
This  awoke  a  rebellious  spirit  in  our  young 
friend,  and  she  found  herself  wondering  what 
would  be  the  effect  of  her  putting  her  knife 
in  her  mouth,  or  drinking  out  of  the  finger- 
bowl.  The  dinner  seemed  interminable.  It  is 
not  easy  to  talk  to  some  one  whom  you  cannot 
see ;  but  Hildegarde  replied  as  well  as  she  could 
to  the  occasional  searching  questions  that  were 
darted  at  her  like  spear-points  through  the 
ferns,  preserved  her  composure,  and  was  not 
too  unhappy  to  enjoy  the  good  food  set  before 
her. 

It  was  a  relief  to  go  back  to  the  drawing- 
room,  which  seemed  a  shade  less  formal  than 
the  one  they  left ;  also,  she  found  a  comfort- 
able chair,  and  received  permission  to  take  out 
her  embroidery. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  lace  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Delansing,  suddenly,  after  a  silence  during  which 
Hildegarde  had  thought  her  asleep,  till,  on  look- 


52  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

ing  up,  she  met  the  steady  gaze  of  the  black 
eyes,  still  fixed  on  her. 

"  It  is  extremely  valuable  lace  ;  are  you  aware 
of  it  ?  "  The  tone  was  reproachful,  but  Hilde- 
garde  preserved  a  quiet  mind. 

"  Yes,  I  know  it  is  valuable  ! "  she  said.  "Old 
Mr.  Aytoun  left  all  his  personal  property  to 
Mamma,  you  know,  Aunt  Emily ;  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  lace,  some  of  it  very  fine  indeed  ; 
this  is  a  small  piece  that  went  with  some  broad 
flounces.  Beautiful  flounces  they  are  !  " 

Mrs.  Delansing's  eyes  lightened,  and  her 
fingers  moved  nervously.  Lace  was  one  of  her 
few  passions,  and  she  could  not  see  it,  or  even 
hear  of  it,  unmoved. 

"  And  what  does  your  mother  propose  to 
do  with  all  this  lace  ?  "  she  asked.  "  She  can- 
not wear  it  herself,  in  the  wilderness  that  she 
chooses  to  live  in." 

"  Oh,  she  keeps  it !  "  said  Hildegarde.  "  It  is 
delightful  to  have  good  lace,  don't  you  think  so  ? 
even  if  you  don't  wear  it.  And  when  either  of 
us  wants  a  bit  to  put  on  a  gown,  —  like  this,  for 
example,  —  why,  there  it  is,  all  ready." 


AUNT   EMILY.  53 

"  It  seems  wanton ;  it  seems  almost  criminal/' 
said  Mrs.  Delansing,  with  energy,  "  to  keep  valu- 
able lace  shut  up  in  a  mouldering  country-house. 
I  —  it  distresses  me  to  think  of  it.  I  shall  feel 
it  a  point  of  duty  to  write  to  your  mother." 

Hildegarde  wondered  what  her  aunt  would 
feel  it  her  duty  to  say.  It  was  hardly  her 
mother's  fault  that  the  lace  had  been  left  to 
her ;  it  seemed  even  doubtful  whether  she  should 
be  expected  to  mould  her  life  upon  the  lines  of 
lace ;  but  this  seemed  an  unsafe  point  to  suggest. 

"  That  is  very  beautiful  lace  on  your  dress, 
Aunt  Emily  !  "  said  this  wily  young  woman. 

Mrs.  Delansing's  brow  smoothed,  and  she 
looked  down  with  a  shade  of  complacency. 
"Yes,  this  is  good,"  she  said.  "This  is  very 
good.  Your  grandfather,  —  I  should  say  your 
great-uncle,  bought  this  lace  for  me  in  Brussels. 
It  is  peculiarly  fine,  you  may  perceive.  The 
young  woman  who  made  it  lost  her  eyesight  in 
consequence." 

"  Oh,  how  dreadful ! "  cried  Hildegarde. 
"  How  could  you  -  "  How  could  you  bear 
to  wear  it?"  was  what  she  was  going  to  say, 


54  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

but  she  checked  herself,  and  the  old  lady  went 
on,  placidly. 

"  Your  great-uncle  paid  something  more  than 
the  price  asked  on  that  account.  He  thought 
something  more  was  due ;  he  was  a  man  of 
great  benevolence.  This  is  point  lace." 

"Yes,"  said  Hildegarde,  "Point  d'AlenQon ; 
I  never  saw  a  more  delicate  piece." 

"  Ah !  you  know  point  lace !  "  said  Mrs.  De- 
lansing.  Her  voice  took  on  a  new  tone,  and 
she  looked  at  the  girl  with  more  friendly  eyes. 
"  I  did  not  know  that  any  young  women  of  the 
new  generation  understood  point.  These  mat- 
ters seem  to  be  thought  of  little  consequence 
nowadays.  I  have  myself  spent  months  in  the 
study  of  a  special  point,  and  felt  myself  well 
repaid." 

She  put  some  searching  questions,  relative  to 
the  qualities  of  Spanish,  Venice,  and  Rose  point, 
and  nodded  her  head  at  each  modest  but  intelli- 
gent answer.  Hildegarde  blessed  her  mother 
and  Cousin  Wealthy,  who  had  expounded  to  her 
the  mysteries  of  lace.  At  the  end  of  the  cate- 
chism, the  old  lady  sighed  and  shook  her  head. 


AUNT   EMILY.  55 

"It  is  an  exceptional  thing,"  she  said,  "to 
find  any  knowledge  of  laces  in  the  younger  gen- 
erations. I  instructed  my  own  daughters  most 
carefully  in  this  branch  of  a  gentlewoman's 
education,  but  they  have  not  thought  proper  to 
extend  the  instruction  to  their  own  children.  I 
—  a  shocking  thing  happened  to  me  last  year !  " 
She  paused,  and  Hildegarde  looked  up  in  sym- 
pathy. 

"  What  was  it,  Aunt  Emily  ?  "  she  asked. 

Mrs.  Delansing  was  still  silent,  lost  in  dis- 
tressful reverie.  At  length,  "  It  is  painful  to 
dwell  upon,"  she  said,  "  and  yet  these  things 
are  a  warning,  and  it  is,  perhaps,  a  duty  to 
communicate  them.  You  have  met  my  grand- 
daughters, your  cousins,  Violette  and  Blanche?" 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  said  Hildegarde,  smiling  a  little, 
and  colouring  a  little  too.  These  cousins  were 
rather  apt  to  attempt  the  city-cousin  r61e,  and 
to  treat  her  as  a  country  cousin  and  poor  rela- 
tion. She  did  not  think  they  had  had  the  best 
of  it  at  their  last  meeting.  "  Yes,  I  know 
them,"  she  said,  simply. 

"  They  are  girls  of  lively  disposition,"  Mrs. 


56  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Delansing  continued.  "  Their  mother  —  your 
Cousin  Amelia  —  has  been  something  of  an 
invalid,  —  I  make  allowance  for  all  this,  and 
yet  there  are  things  —  "  She  broke  off;  then, 
after  a  moment,  went  on  again.  "  Violette 
made  me  a  visit  last  winter,  here,  in  this  house. 
She  was  engaged  in  what  she  called  fancy  work, 
for  a  bazaar  (most  objectionable  things  to  my 
mind),  that  was  to  be  held  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. One  day  she  came  to  Hobson  —  I  was 
unwell  at  the  time  —  and  said,  —  Hobson  re- 
members her  very  words : 

"  '  Oh,  Hobson,  see  what  a  lovely  thing  I  have 
made  out  of  a  bit  of  old  rubbishy  lace  that  was 
in  this  bureau  drawer.' 

"  Hobson  looked,  and  turned  pale  to  her  soul, 
as  she  expressed  it  in  her  homely  way.  She 
recognised  the  pattern  of  the  lace. 

" '  I  cut  out  the  flowers,'  said  the  unhappy 
girl,  '  and  applied  them '  -  she  said  '  appliqued  ' 
them,  a  term  which  I  cannot  reproduce  — 
6  applied  them  to  this  crimson  satin  ribbon ;  it 
will  make  a  lovely  picture-frame ;  so  unique  ! ' 

"  She  had  —  she  had  taken  a  piece  of  my  old 


AUNT   EMILY.  57 

Mechlin,  which  Hobson  had  just  done  up  and 
had  laid  in  the  drawer  till  I  should  feel  strong 
enough  to  examine  and  approve  its  appearance, 

—  she  had  taken  this  and  cut  it  to  pieces,  cut  out 
the  flowers,  to  sew  them —     There  are  things 
that  have  to  be  lived  through,  my  dear.     It  was 
weeks  before  Hobson  felt  able  to  tell  me  what 
had  occurred.     I  was  in  danger  of  a  relapse  for 
several  weeks,  though  she  did  it  as  delicately 
as  possible,  —  good  Hobson.    I  did  not  trust  my- 
self to  speak  to  Yiolette  in  person ;  I  sent  for 
her  mother,  and  told  her  of  the  occurrence.    She 

—  she  —  laughed !  " 

There  was  silence  for  some  minutes.  Hilde- 
garde  wanted  to  show  the  sympathy  that  she 
truly  felt,  for  she  liked  lace,  and  the  idea  of 
its  stupid  destruction  rilled  her  with  indignation. 
She  ventured  to  lay  her  hand  timidly  on  the 
old  lady's  arm,  but  Mrs.  Delansing  took  no 
notice  of  the  caress ;  she  sat  bolt  upright, 
gazing  out  of  the  window  with  stony  eyes. 
Presently  she  said: 

"  You  may  ring  for  Hobson,  if  you  please. 
I  feel  somewhat  shaken,  and  will  have  my 


58  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

malted  milk  in  my  own  room.  Another  even- 
ing, I  may  ask  your  patience  in  a  game  of 
backgammon,  —  you  have  been  taught  to  play 
backgammon  ?  Yes ;  but  not  to-night.  You 
will  find  books  in  the  library,  and  the  piano 
does  not  disturb  me.  Good-night,  my  niece." 
She  shook  hands  with  Hildegarde,  and  de- 
parted on  Hobson's  arm,  looking  old  and  feeble, 
though  holding  herself  studiously  erect.  Hilde- 
garde went  to  her  room,  feeling  half  sad,  half 
amused,  and  wholly  homesick.  She  greeted 
the  china  sailor  with  effusion,  as  if  he  were 
a  friend  of  years.  "  Oh,  you  dear  fellow ! " 
she  said.  "  You  are  young,  aren't  you  ?  and 
happy,  aren't  you?  Well,  mind  you  stay  so, 
do  you  hear  ? "  She  nodded  vehemently  at 
him,  and  took  up  her  book,  to  read  till  bedtime. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

GREETINGS. 

THERE  was  no  family  breakfast  at  the  house 
in  Gramercy  Park.  A  smiling  chambermaid 
brought  up  a  tray  to  Hildegarde's  room,  with 
all  manner  of  pleasant  things  under  suggestive 
little  covers.  Hilda  ate  and  was  thankful, 
and  then,  finding  that  her  aunt  would  not 
be  visible  before  noon,  she  put  on  her  hat 
and  went  for  a  walk.  The  streets  were  chilly, 
in  the  November  morning,  but  the  air  was 
fresh  and  good,  and  Hildegarde  breathed  it 
in  joyously. 

This  was  just  a  walk,  she  said  to  herself. 
She  had  many  visits  to  make,  of  course,  and 
more  or  less  shopping  to  do,  but  there  was 
time  enough  for  all  that.  Now  she  would 
walk,  and  get  her  bearings,  and  consider  that 
one  might  live  well  in  a  city.  The  brick 


60  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

sidewalks  seemed  at  once  strange  and  familiar ; 
she  had  known  the  brown-stone  streets  all 
her  life.  Once  they  had  seemed  her  own,  the 
only  place  worth  walking  in ;  now  they  were 
a  poor  apology,  indeed,  for  shady  lanes  and 
broad  sunny  roads  along  which  the  feet  trod 
or  the  wheel  spun,  winged  by  "the  joy  of 
mere  living."  She  passed  the  house  where 
her  childhood  had  been  spent,  and  paused  to 
look  up  at  the  tall  windows,  in  loving  thought 
of  the  dear  father  who  had  made  that  early 
home  so  bright  and  full  of  cheer.  Dear  Father ! 
There  was  his  smoking-room  window,  where 
he  used  to  sit  and  read  aloud  to  her,  so  many 
happy  hours.  How  he  would  dislike  those  heavy 
brocade  curtains ;  he  used  to  thunder,  almost 
as  loud  as  Colonel  Ferrers,  about  curtains  that 
kept  out  the  blessed  sunshine.  How  —  the 
house  was  a  corner  one,  and  at  this  moment, 
as  Hildegarde  stood  gazing  up  at  the  windows, 
a  gentleman  turned  the  corner,  and  ran  plump 
into  her. 

"Upon  my  soul,"  said  the  gentleman,  with 
great    violence,    "it    is    a   most    extraordinary 


GREETINGS.  61 

thing  that  a  human  being  should  turn  himself 
into  a  post  for  the  express  purpose  of — I  beg 
your  pardon,  madam.  I  was  not  conscious 
that  I  was  addressing  a  lady !  Can  I  serve 
you  in  any  way  ?  Command  me,  I  beg  of  you ! " 

The  moment  Hildegarde  caught  the  sound 
of  the  gentleman's  voice,  she  turned  her  head 
away,  so  that  he  could  not  see  her  face ;  and 
now  she  spoke  over  her  shoulder. 

"A  place  hi  thy  memory,  dearest — sir,  is 
all  that  I  ask  at  thy  hands.  It  is  hard  to  be 
forgotten  so  soon,  so  utterly !  " 

"What!  what!  what!  what!"  said  the 
Colonel.  "  Who  !  who !  why  —  why  the  mis- 
chief will  you  not  turn  your  head  round,  young 
woman?  There  is  only  one  young  woman  in 
the  world  who  would  address  me  in  this  man- 
ner, and  she  is  a  hundred  miles  away.  Now, 
in  the  name  of  all  that  is  elfish,  Hildegarde 
Grahame,  what  are  you  doing  here?'* 

Hildegarde  turned  round,  her  eyes  full  of 
happy  laughter,  and  took  her  friend's  arm. 

"  And  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  occult,  and 
necromantic,  and  Rosicrucian,  Colonel  Ferrers, 


62  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

what  are  you  doing  here  ? "  she  asked.  "  I 
thought  you  were  in  Washington." 

"  I  was,  till  last  night !  "  the  Colonel  replied. 
"  We  have  seen  all  the  sights,  the  boy  and  I, 
and  now  we  have  come  to  see  the  sights  here 
on  our  way  home.  Well !  well !  and  the  first 
sight  I  see  is  the  best  one  for  sair  een  that  I 
know.  What  a  pity  I  left  the  boy  at  the  hotel ! 
He  was  still  asleep.  We  arrived  late  last  night. 
I  went  to  wake  him,  and  I  give  you  my  word, 
I  could  as  soon  have  thought  of  waking  an 
angel  from  a  dream  of  paradise ;  the  little  fel- 
low smiled,  you  understand,  Hildegarde,  and 
—  and  moved  his  little  arms,  and  —  I  came 
away,  sir,  —  my  dear,  I  should  say,  —  and  left 
him  to  sleep  as  long  as  he  would.  Where  are 
you  going  now,  my  child  ?  have  you  had  break- 
fast? if  not,—  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  have  had  breakfast,  dear  sir ! "  said 
Hildegarde.  "  And  you  were  thinking,  if  I  had 
had  it,  how  pleasant  for  me  to  go  in  and  surprise 
that  blessed  lamb  in  his  crib ;  now,  weren't 
you?" 

"  The   point,  as   usual ! "  cried   the  Colonel. 


GREETINGS.  63 

"  Country  neighbours  learn  to  know  each  others' 
thoughts,  they  say,  but  I  never  believed  it,  till 
I  had  neighbours.  Well,  shall  we  go  ?  Now, 
upon  my  soul,  this  is  the  most  surprising  and 
delightful  thing  that  has  happened  to  me  for 
forty  years.  But  you  have  not  told  me  where 
you  are  staying,  Hilda,  nor  why  you  are  here, 
nor  in  fact  anything ;  have  simply  wormed 
information  out  of  the  confiding  friend,  and  re- 
mained silent  yourself  !  "  and  the  Colonel  looked 
injured,  and  twirled  his  moustaches  with  mock 
ferocity. 

"  I  like  that !  "  said  Hildegarde.  "  That  really 
pleases  me !  Kindly  indicate,  dear  sir,  the  mo- 
ment at  which  I  could  have  got  in  a  word  edge- 
wise, since  you  began  your  highly  interesting 
remarks !  I  have  been  simply  panting  with 
eagerness  to  tell  you  that  I  left  home  yester- 
day, and  arrived  in  New  York  at  five  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon ;  that  I  am  staying  with  my 
great-aunt  in  Gramercy  Park;  that  I  am  wo- 
fully  homesick,  and  that  the  sound  of  your 
voice  was  the  most  ecstatic  sound  I  have  heard 
for  half  a  century." 


64  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

"  Ha  !  "  said  the  Colonel.  "  Humph  !  mock- 
ery, I  perceive !  of  the  aged,  too  !  Very  well, 
Miss  Grahame,  your  punishment  will  be  decided 
hereafter.  Meanwhile,  here  we  are  at  my  hotel, 
and  we  will  go  straight  up  and  wake  the  boy,  — 
if  he  seems  to  be  ready  to  wake,  my  dear.  I  am 
sure  you  will  agree  with  me  that  it  would  be  a 
pity  to  rouse  him  from  a  sound  sleep.  '  Sleep, 
that  knits  up  the  ravelled  sleeve  of  care,'  you 
remember,  Hildegarde !  " 

"  Yes,  dear  Colonel  Ferrers  !  "  said  Hildegarde. 
"  But  I  don't  believe  Hugh's  sleeve  is  very  deeply 
ravelled,  do  you  ?  and  indeed,  it  is  high  time  for 
him  to  be  awake." 

They  turned  in  at  a  great  white  marble  por- 
tal, and  the  elevator  soon  brought  them  to  the 
Colonel's  door.  He  opened  it  softly  witli  a 
latch-key,  and  led  the  way  into  the  apart- 
ment ;  then  paused,  and  beckoned  Hilda  to 
come  in  quietly. 

"  Listen !  "  he  whispered.     "  Hugh  is  awake  !  " 

They  listened,  and  heard  a  clear,  sweet  voice 
discoursing  calmly: 

"  I  have  three  pillows  to  my  head,  though  I 


GREETINGS.  65 

am  not  ill.  I  wish  that  other  boy  was  here, 
that  was  in  bed,  and  made  songs  about  himself, 
and  said  it  was  the  Land  of  Counterpane.  He 
was  the  Giant  great  and  still,  that  sits  upon  the 
pillow-hill,  and  I  am  that  kind  of  giant  too. 
Now  I  play  he  is  here,  and  he  sits  up  against 
that  pillow,  and  I  sit  up  against  this.  And  I 
say,  '  How  can  you  say  all  the  things  that  come 
in  your  mind  ?  I  can  have  the  things  in  my 
mind,  too,  but  they  will  not  have  rhyme-tails  to 
them.  How  do  you  make  the  rhyme-tails  ? ' 

"And  then" he  says,  —  I  call  him  Louis,  for  that 
is  the  prettiest  part  of  his  name,  —  Louis  says, 
6  It  has  to  be  a  part  of  you.  I  think  of  things 
in  short  lines,  and  after  every  line  I  look  for 
the  rhyme-tail,  and  I  see  it  hanging  somewhere. 
But  perhaps  your  Colonel  can  help  you  about 
that,'  Louis  says. 

"  But  I  say,  '  No  !  my  Colonel  cannot  help  me 
about  that.  My  Colonel  is  good,  and  I  love  him 
with  love  that  grows  like  a  tree,  but  he  cannot 
make  rhymes.  Now,  if  my  Beloved  were  here, 
she  might  be  able  to  help  me  ;  but  she  is  far 
away,  and  the  high  walls  shut  her  out  from  me. 


66  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

The  walls  are  very  high  here,  Louis,  and  my 
Colonel  has  gone  away  now,  and  I  don't  know 
how  soon  he  will  come  back  ;  so  don't  you  leave 
me,  Louis,  for  I  am  alone  in  a  sandy  waste, 
and  there  are  no  quails.  But  manna  would 
be  nasty,  I  think.'  " 

At  this  point  the  listeners  could  bear  no  more. 
Hilda  ran  into  the  room,  and  had  Hugh  in  her 
arms,  and  was  laughing  and  crying  and  cooing 
over  him  all  at  once.  The  Colonel  followed, 
very  red  in  the  face,  blowing  his  nose  and 
clearing  his  throat  portentously. 

"  Why,  darling,"  Hilda  was  saying  between 
the  kisses,  "  darling  Boy,  did  you  want  me  ? 
and  did  you  think  your  Colonel  would  leave  you 
for  more  than  a  few  little  minutes  ?  Of  course 
he  would  not !  And  where  do  you  suppose  I 
came  from,  Boy,  when  I  heard  you  say  you 
wanted  me?  Do  you  think  I  came  down  the 
chimney  ?  " 

Hugh  gravely  inspected  her  spotless  attire ;  the 
blue  serge  showed  no  wrinkle,  no  speck  of  dust. 

"I  should  say  not  the  chimney!"  he  an- 
nounced, "  But  from  some  strange  where  you 


GREETINGS.  67 

must  have  come,  Beloved,  if  it  was  a  place 
where  you  heard  me  talking  when  I  was  not 
there.  Was  it  the  up-stairs  of  the  Land  of 
Counterpane?"  he  added,  his  eyes  lighting  up 
with  their  whimsical  look.  "  Was  it  the  Coun- 
terpane Garret?  Then  it  must  have  been  over 
the  top  of  the  bed  that  you  came  from,  and  you 
seemed  to  come  in  at  the  door.  Did  Louis  tell 
you  to  come  ?  " 

"  Louis  ?  "  said  the  Colonel.  "  What  does  the 
boy  mean  ?  Stuff  and  nonsense !  I  met  your 
Beloved  in  the  street,  ran  into  her,  and  thought 
she  was  a  post ;  and  then  I  brought  her  along, 
and  here  she  is ;  and  what  do  you  think  about 
breakfast,  Young  Sir  ?  " 

Young  Sir  thought  very  well  of  breakfast, 
but  he  could  not  think  of  eating  it  without  his 
two  friends  looking  on ;  so  Hildegarde  waited 
in  the  parlour,  chatting  merrily  with  the  Colo- 
nel till  Young  Sir's  toilet  was  completed,  and 
then  breakfast  was  brought,  and  Hugh  ate, 
and  the  others  watched  him ;  and  Hildegarde 
found  that  she  was  quite  hungry  enough  to  eat 
Black  Hamburg  grapes,  even  if  it  was  only  two 


68  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

hours  since  breakfast,  and  altogether  they  were 
very  merry. 

"And  what  shall  we  do  now?"  asked  the 
Colonel,  when  the  pleasant  meal  was  over. 
"  The  Metropolitan,  eh  ?  The  boy  must  see 
pictures,  Hilda,  hey  ?  '  The  eye  that  ne'er  on 
beauty  dwells,'  h'm !  ha !  folderol !  I  forget  the 
rest,  but  the  principle  remains  the  same.  Never 
seen  any  pictures  except  those  at  home,  and  the 
few  in  Washington.  Chiefly  rubbish  there,  I 
observe.  What  do  you  say,  Miss  Braeside  ? 
Will  you  give  Roseholme  the  honour  of  your 
company  as  far  as  the  Metropolitan  ? " 

"  Why  not  ?  "  thought  Hildegarde.  "  Hobson 
said  positively  that  Aunt  Emily  would  not  see 
me  before  lunch,  and  there  is  no  one  else  that 
I  need  go  to  see  quite  so  very  immediately." 

"  Yes,  I  will  go  with  pleasure ! "  she  said. 
So  off  they  started,  the  cheerfullest  three  in 
New  York  that  morning.  Busy  men,  hurrying 
down-town  to  their  business,  turned  to  look 
back  at  them,  and  felt  the  load  of  care  light- 
ened a  little  just  by  the  knowledge  that  there 
were  three  people  who  had  no  care,  and  were 


GREETINGS.  69 

going  to  enjoy  themselves  somewhere.  Hugh 
walked  in  the  middle,  holding  a  hand  of  each 
friend,  chattering  away,  and  looking  up  from 
one  to  the  other  with  clear,  joyful  looks  that 
made  the  whole  street  brighter.  The  Colonel 
was  in  high  feather;  flourishing  his  stick,  he 
strode  along,  pointing  out  the  various  objects 
of  interest  on  the  way.  He  paused  before  a 
mercer's  window,  filled  with  shimmering  silks 
and  satins. 

"  Now  here2"  he  said,  "  is  frippery  of  a  supe- 
rior description;  frippery  enough  to  delight  the 
hearts  of  a  dozen  women." 

"  Possibly  of  two  dozen,  dear  sir,"  put  in  Hil- 
degarde ;  "  consider  the  number  of  yards  in  all 
those  shining  folds." 

"  Hum  !  ha !  precisely !  "  said  the  Colonel. 
"  Now,  Hildegarde,  you  have  some  taste  in 
dress,  I  believe ;  you  appear  to  me  to  be  a  well- 
dressed  young  woman.  Now,  I  say,  what  seems 
to  you  the  handsomest  gown  in  all  this  folderol, 
hey  ?  the  handsomest,  mind  you  ?  " 

" '  Said  the  Kangaroo  to  the  Duck,  this  requires 
a  little  reflection  ! '  '  Hildegarde  quoted. 


70  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

"  Perhaps,  on  the  whole,  that  splendid  purple 
velvet;  don't  you  think  so,  Colonel  Ferrers?" 

"  Hum !  "  said  the  Colonel.  "  Ha  !  possibly  ; 
but  —  ha  !  hum  !  that  —  I  may  be  wrong,  Hilde- 
garde  —  but  that  seems  to  me  hardly  suited 
to  a  young  person,  hey?  More  a  gown  for  a 
dowager,  it  strikes  me  ?  I  may  be  wrong,  of 


course." 


"Not  in  the  least  wrong,  dear  sir,"  said 
Hilda,  laughing.  "  But  you  said  nothing  about 
a  young  person.  You  said  'the  handsomest.'  ' 

"Precisely,"  said  the  Colonel  again.  "And 
after  all,  a  gown  is  a  temporary  thing,  Hugh. 
Now,  a  bit  of  jewelry — but  now,  Hildegarde, 
I  put  it  to  you,  if  you  were  going  to  choose 
a  gown  for  Elizabeth  Beadle,  for  example ; 
suppose  Hugh  and  I  were  going  to  take  a 
present  home  to  Elizabeth  Beadle ;  there's  no 
better  woman  of  her  station  in  the  mortal 
universe,  sir,  I  don't  care  who  the  second  may 
be.  What  do  you  think  suitable,  hey  ?" 

"  Oh,  Guardian !  "  and  "  Oh,  Colonel  Ferrers  !  " 
cried  Hugh  and  Hildegarde,  in  a  breath.  "  How 
delightful !  " 


GREETINGS.  71 

"  I  think  Hugh  ought  to  choose,"  said  Hilde- 
garde,  with  some  self-denial ;  and  she  added  to 
herself : 

"  If  only  he  will  not  choose  the  blue  and  red 
plaid ;  though  there  is  nothing  she  would  like  so 
well,  to  be  sure  !  " 

Hugh  surveyed  the  shining  prospect  with 
radiant  eyes. 

"  I  think  you  are  the  very  kindest  person 
in  all  the  world!"  he  said.  "I  think  —  my 
mind  is  full  of  thoughts,  but  now  I  will  make 
my  choice." 

He  was  silent,  and  the  three  stood  absorbed, 
heedless  of  the  constantly  increasing  crowd  that 
surged  and  elbowed  past  them. 

"  My  great-aunt  is  fond  of  bright  colours," 
said  the  child,  at  last.  Hildegarde  shivered. 

"She  would  like  best  the  red  and  blue 
plaid.  But,  people  must  not  always  have  the 
things  they  like  best.  You  remember  the 
green  apples,  Guardian,  and  how  they  weren't 
half  as  good  as  the  medicine  was  horrid." 

"  Most  astonishing  boy  in  the  habitable  uni- 
verse !  "  murmured  the  Colonel,  under  his  breath. 


72  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

"  Don't  undertake  to  say  what  kind  of  boys 
there  may  be  in  Mars,  you  understand,  but  so 
far  as  this  planet  goes,  —  hey  ?  Ha !  well,  have 
you  made  your  choice,  Young  Sir  ?  " 

Hugh  pointed  out  a  gray  silk,  with  a  pretty 
purple  figure.  "  That  is  the  very  best  thing 
for  my  great-aunt,"  he  said. 

"  That  will  fill  her  with  delirious  rapture, 
and  it  will  not  put  out  the  eyes  of  anybody. 
We  shall  all  be  happy  with  that  silk." 

So  in  they  went  to  the  shop,  and  Hugh 
bought  the  silk,  and  the  Colonel  paid  for  it, 
and  then  they  all  went  off  to  the  Metropolitan, 
and  spent  the  rest  of  the  morning  in  great  joy. 


CHAPTER  V. 

AT    THE    EXCHANGE. 

"AND  how  have  you  spent  the  morning, 
my  dear  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Delansing. 

They  were  sitting  at  the  luncheon-table. 
Hildegarde  could  just  see  the  tip  of  her  aunt's 
cap  above  the  old-fashioned  epergne  which 
occupied  the  centre  of  the  table ;  but  her  tone 
sounded  cheerful,  and  Hildegarde  hastened  to 
tell  of  her  delightful  morning.  She  had  en- 
joyed herself  so  heartily  that  she  made  the 
recital  with  joyful  eagerness,  forgetting  for  the 
moment  that  she  was  not  speaking  to  her 
mother,  who  always  enjoyed  her  good  times 
rather  more  than  she  did  herself ;  but  a  sudden 
exclamation  from  Mrs.  Delansing  brought  her 
to  a  sudden  realisation  of  her  position. 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  and  at 
her  tone  the  very  ferns  seemed  to  stiffen. 
"  What  are  you  telling  me,  Hildegarde  ?  You 


74  HILDEGAKDE'S    HARVEST. 

have   been  spending  the  morning   with  —  with 
a  gentlemen,  and  that  gentleman — " 

"  Colonel  Ferrers  !  "  said  Hildegarde,  hastily, 
fearing  that  she  had  not  been  understood. 
"  Surely  you  know  Colonel  Ferrers,  Aunt  Em- 

Uy." 

"  I  do  know  Thomas  Ferrers  !  "  replied  Mrs. 
Delansing,  with  awful  severity;  "but  I  do  not 
know  why  —  I  must  add  that  I  am  at  a  loss 
to  imagine  how  —  my  niece  should  have  been 
careering  about  the  streets  of  New  York  with 
Thomas  Ferrers  or  any  other  young  man." 

Hildegarde  was  speechless  for  a  moment ; 
indeed,  Mrs.  Delansing  only  paused  to  draw 
breath,  and  then  went  on. 

"  That  your  mother  holds  many  dangerous 
and  levelling  opinions  I  am  aware ;  but  that 
she  could  in  any  degree  countenance  anything 
so  —  so  monstrous  as  this,  I  refuse  to  believe. 
I  shall  consider  it  my  duty  to  write  to  her  im- 
mediately, and  inform  her  of  what  you  have 
done." 

Hildegarde  was  holding  fast  to  the  arms  of 
her  chair,  and  saying  over  and  over  to  herself, 


AT   THE    EXCHANGE.  75 

"  Never  speak  suddenly  or  sharply  to  an  old 
person !  "  It  was  one  of  her  mother's  maxims, 
and  she  had  never  needed  it  before ;  but  now  it 
served  to  keep  her  still,  though  the  indignant 
outcry  had  nearly  forced  itself  from  her  lips. 
She  remained  silent  until  she  was  sure  of  her 
voice  ;  then  said  quietly,  "  Aunt  Emily,  there  is 
some  mistake  !  Colonel  Ferrers  is  over  sixty 
years  old  ;  he  was  a  dear  friend  of  my  father's, 
and — and  I  have  already  written  to  my  mother." 

Mrs.  Delansing  was  silent ;  Hildegarde  saw 
through  the  screen  of  leaves  a  movement,  as  if 
she  put  her  hand  to  her  brow.  "  Sixty  years 
old  !  "  she  repeated.  "  Wild  Tom  Ferrers,  — 
sixty  years  old !  What  does  it  mean  ?  Then  — 
then  how  old  am  I  ?  " 

There  was  a  painful  silence.  Hildegarde 
longed  for  her  mother ;  longed  for  the  right 
word  to  say  ;  the  wrong  word  would  be  worse 
than  none,  yet  this  stillness  was  not  to  be  en- 
dured. Her  voice  sounded  strange  to  herself 
as  she  said,  crumbling  her  bread  nervously: 

"  He  is  looking  very  well  indeed.  He  has 
been  in  Washington  with  little  Hugh,  his  ward ; 


76  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

he  had  been  suffering  a  great  deal  with  rheu- 
matism, but  the  warm  weather  there  drove  it 
quite  away,  he  says." 

There  was  no  reply. 

"  Colonel  Ferrers  is  the  kindest  neighbour  that 
any  one  could  possibly  have  !  "  the  girl  went  on. 
"  I  don't  know  what  we  should  have  done  with- 
out him,  mamma  and  I ;  he  has  really  been  one 
of  the  great  features  in  our  life  there.  You 
know  he  is  a  connection  of  dear  papa's,  —  on 
the  Lancaster  side,  —  as  well  as  a  lifelong 
friend." 

"  I  was  not  aware  of  it !  "  said  Mrs.  Delansing. 
She  had  recovered  her  composure,  and  her  tone, 
though  cold,  was  no  longer  like  iced  thunder- 
bolts. 

"  I  withdraw  my  criticism  of  your  conduct,  — 
in  a  measure.  But  I  cannot  refrain  from  saying 
that  I  think  your  time  would  have  been  better 
employed  in  your  room,  than  in  gadding  about 
the  street.  I  was  distinctly  surprised  when  Hob- 
son  told  me  that  you  had  gone  out.  Hobson  was 
surprised  herself.  She  has  always  lived  in  the 
most  careful  families." 


AT    THE    EXCHANGE.  77 

Hildegarde  "  saw  scarlet."  "  Aunt  Emily," 
she  said,  "  blame  me  if  you  will ;  but  I  can- 
not suffer  any  reflection  on  my  mother.  I  do 
not  consider  that  it  would  be  possible  for  any 
one  to  be  more  careful  of  every  sensible  pro- 
priety than  my  mother  is ;  though  she  does  not 
mould  her  conduct  on  the  opinions  of  servants!" 
she  added.  She  should  not  have  said  this,  and 
was  aware  of  it  instantly ;  but  the  provocation 
had  been  great. 

"  You  admit  that  your  mother  is  human  ?  " 
said  the  old  lady,  grimly.  "  She  has  faults,  I 
presume,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  human- 
kind?" 

"  She  may  have  !  "  said  Hildegarde.  "  I  have 
never  observed  them." 

Silence  again.  Hildegarde  tried  to  eat  her 
chicken,  but  every  morsel  seemed  to  choke  her ; 
her  heart  beat  painfully,  and  she  saw  through  a 
mist  of  angry 'tears.  Oh,  why  had  she  come 
here  ?  What  would  she  not  give  to  be  at  home 
again ! 

Presently  Mrs.  Delansing  spoke  again,  and  her 
tone  was  perceptibly  gentler. 


78  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  My  dear,  you  must  not  think  that  I  mean 
to  be  unkind,  nor  did  I  mean  —  consciously  — 
to  reflect  upon  your  mother,  for  whom  your  affec- 
tion is  commendable,  though  perhaps  strongly 
expressed." 

"  I  am  sorry  !  "  said  Hildegarde,  impulsively. 
"  I  ought  not  to  have  spoken  so.  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Aunt  Emily  !  " 

Mrs.  Delansing  bowed.  "  You  are  freely  par- 
doned !  I  was  about  to  say,  when  this  little 
interruption  occurred,  that  I  had  hoped  you 
could  be  content  for  a  few  days  under  my  roof, 
without  seeking  pleasure  elsewhere ;  but  age  is 
poor  company  for  youth." 

"  But  you  could  not  see  me  this  morning, 
Aunt  Emily !  You  said  last  night  that  you 
never  saw  anybody  before  lunch.  And  what 
should  I  do  in  my  room  ?  It  is  a  charming 
room,  but  you  surely  did  not  expect  me  to  stay 
in  it  all  the  morning,  doing  nothing  ?" 

"  I  should  have  thought  you  might  find  plenty 
of  occupation  !  "  said  Mrs.  Delansing.  "  In  my 
time  it  was  thought  not  too  much  for  a  young 
lady  to  devote  the  greater  part  of  the  day  to  the 


AT   THE   EXCHANGE.  79 

care  of  her  person ;  this,  of  course,  included  fine 
needlework  and  other  feminine  occupations." 

"  I  did  not  bring  any  work  with  me,"  said 
Hildegarde.  "  You  see,  I  must  go  back  to- 
morrow, Aunt  Emily,  and  there  are  so  many 
errands  that  I  have  to  do.  This  afternoon  I 
must  go  out  again ;  and  is  there  anything  I  can 
do  for  you  ?  I  shall  be  going  by  Arnold's,  if 
you  want  anything  there." 

"  I  thank  you ;  Hobson  makes  my  purchases 
for  me ! "  said  Mrs.  Delansing,  stiffly.  "  She 
would  better  accompany  you  to  Arnold's ;  there 
is  apt  to  be  a  crowd  in  these  large  shops,  which 
I  consider  unsuited  for  gentlewomen.  I  will 
tell  Hobson  to  accompany  you." 

But  Hildegarde  protested  against  this,  saying, 
with  truth,  that  she  must  pay  a  visit  first.  The 
idea  of  going  about  with  Hobson  at  her  heels 
was  intolerable  for  the  girl  who  had  spent  the 
first  sixteen  years  of  her  life  in  New  York. 

She  finally  carried  her  point,  and  also  ob- 
tained permission  to  read  to  her  aunt  for  an 
hour  before  going  out.  It  was  a  particularly 
dull  weekly  that  was  chosen,  but  she  read  as 


80  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

well  as  she  knew  how,  and  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  Mrs.  Delansing's  stern  face  relax  into 
something  like  cheerfulness  as  she  went  through 
two  chapters  of  the  vapid,  semi-religious  story. 
At  length  the  cold,  gray  eyes  closed ;  the  stately 
head  nodded  forward ;  Aunt  Emily  was  asleep. 
Hildegarde  read  on  for  some  time,  till  she  was 
sure  that  the  slumber  was  deep  and  settled. 
Then  she  sat  for  a  moment  looking  at  the  old 
lady,  and  contrasting  her  face  and  form,  rigid 
even  in  sleep,  with  those  of  dear  Cousin  Wealthy 
Bond,  who  always  looked  like  the  softest  and 
most  kissable  elderly  rose  in  her  afternoon  nap. 
"  Poor  soul,"  she  said,  softly,  as  she  slipped  out 
of  the  room  to  find  Hobson.  "  So  lonely,  and 
so  unloved  and  unloving !  I  can't  bear  to  hear 
Blanche  and  Violette  speak  of  her,  —  I  can 
hardly  keep  my  hands  off  them,  —  and  yet  — 
why  exactly  should  they  be  fond  of  her  ?  She 
is  not  fond  of  them,  or  of  anybody,  I  fear,  unless 
it  be  Hobson." 

The  visit  was  paid,  and  Hildegarde  took  her 
way  towards  the  Woman's  Exchange,  with  a 


AT   THE    EXCHANGE.  81 

beating  heart.  It  beat  happily,  for  she  had 
enjoyed  the  half -hour's  talk  with  the  kind 
cousin,  an  elderly  woman,  who  seldom  moved 
from  her  sofa,  but  whose  life  was  full  of  inter- 
est, and  who  was  the  friend  and  confidante  of 
all  the  young  people  in  the  neighbourhood.  She 
had  heard  with  pleasure  of  the  proposed  plan, 
and  had  given  Hildegarde  a  note  to  the  manager 
of  the  Exchange,  whom  she  knew  well ;  had 
tasted  a  crumb  of  one  of  the  cakes,  and  pre- 
dicted a  ready  sale  for  them.  Moreover,  and 
this  was  the  best  of  all,  she  had  talked  so  wisely 
and  kindly,  and  with  such  a  note  of  the  dear 
mother  in  her  voice,  that  Hildegarde's  homesick- 
ness had  all  floated  away,  and  she  had  decided 
that  it  was  not,  after  all,  such  a  hardship  to 
spend  three  days  in  New  York  as  she  had 
thought  it  an  hour  ago. 

As  I  said,  she  took  her  way  towards  the 
Exchange,  carrying  her  neat  paper  box  care- 
fully. As  she  went,  she  amused  herself  by 
building  castles,  a  la  Perrette.  How  many 
things  she  would  buy  with  the  money,  if  she 
sold  the  cakes ;  and  she  should  surely  sell 


82  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

them.  No  one  could  resist  who  once  tasted 
them,  and  she  had  made  several  tiny  ones 
for  samples ;  just  a  mouthful  of  "  goody "  in 
each. 

Fine  linen,  several  yards  of  it,  and  gold 
thread,  and  "  Underwoods "  in  green  morocco, 
—  that  was  really  almost  a  necessity,  for 
Mamma's  birthday;  and  some  pink  chiffon 
to  freshen  up  her  silk  waist,  and  —  and  — 
here  she  was  almost  run  over,  and  was  shouted 
at  and  seized  by  a  policeman,  and  piloted  gen- 
tly to  a  place  of  safety,  with  an  admonition  to 
be  more  careful. 

Much  ashamed,  Hildegarde  stood  still  to 
look  about  her,  and  found  herself  at  the  very 
door  of  the  Exchange.  She  went  in.  The 
room  was  filled  with  customers.  "I  ought 
to  have  come  in  the  morning,"  she  said  to 
herself,  and  the  quick  blush  mounted  to  her 
cheeks,  as  she  made  her  way  to  the  counter 
at  the  back  of  the  shop,  where  a  sweet-faced 
woman  was  trying  to  answer  four  questions 
at  once. 

"  No,    the    Nuns    have    not    come    in    yet. 


AT    THE   EXCHANGE.  83 

Yes,  they  are  generally  here  before  this.  No, 
I  cannot  tell  the  reason  of  the  delay.  Yes,  it 
happened  once  before,  when  the  maker  was 
ill.  I  do  not  know  why  more  people  do  not 
make  them.  Yes,  just  the  one  person,  so  far 
as  I  know.  Marguerites  ?  Yes,  madam,  —  in 
one  moment.  The  orange  biscuits  will  come 
in  at  two  o'clock.  No,  we  have  never  had  them 
earlier  than  that.  Perhaps  you  are  thinking 
of  the  lemon  cheese-cakes.  These  are  the 
lemon  cheese-cakes." 

She  paused  for  breath,  and  looked  anxiously 
round.  It  was  plain  that  she  was  expecting 
assistance,  and  equally  plain  that  it  was  late 
in  coming.  Hildegarde  stepped  quietly  round 
behind  the  counter. 

"Can  I  help  you?"  she  whispered. 

The  lady  gave  her  a  grateful  glance.  "  I 
should  be  so  thankful,"  she  murmured.  "  All 
these  ladies  must  be  served  instantly.  The 
prices  are  all  marked." 

The  lady  who  had  demanded  the  "Nuns" 
had  also  paused  for  breath,  being  stout  as 
well  as  clamorous ;  but  she  now  returned  to 


84  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

the  attack.  Hildegarde  met  her  with  a  calm 
front,  and  eyes  which  tried  not  to  smile. 

"  Can  you  —  oh !  this  is  a  different  person. 
Perhaps  you  can  tell  me  why  the  Nuns  are 
not  here.  It  really  seems  an  extraordinary 
thing  that  they  should  not  be  here  at  the 
usual  time." 

"  The  messenger  may  have  lost  a  train,  or 
something  of  that  sort,"  suggested  Hildegarde, 
soothingly. 

"  Oh?  but  that  would  be  no  excuse !  No 
excuse  at  all !  When  one  is  in  the  habit  of 
supplying  things  to  people  of  consequence, 
one  must  not  lose  trains.  Now,  are  you  per- 
fectly sure  that  they  have  not  come  ?  You  know 
what  they  are,  do  you  ?  Little  round  cakes, 
with  a  raisin  in  the  middle,  and  flavoured  with 
something  special.  I  don't  remember  what 
the  flavour  is,  but  it  is  something  special,  of 
that  I  am  sure.  Have  you  looked  —  have  you 
looked  everywhere?  What  is  in  that  box  at 
your  elbow  ?  They  might  have  been  brought  in 
and  laid  down  without  your  noticing  it.  Oblige 
me  by  looking  in  that  box  at  your  elbow." 


AT    THE    EXCHANGE.  85 

A  sudden  thought  flashed  into  Hildegarde's 
mind ;  she  began  to  unfasten  the  box,  which 
was  her  own,  whispering  at  the  same  time 
into  the  ear  of  her  companion  in  distress. 

"  Oh  !  Oh,  yes,  certainly  !  "  said  the  latter, 
also  in  a  whisper.  "  Anything,  I  am  sure,  that 
will  give  satisfaction!  If  you  can  only  — " 

"  Stop  her  noise,"  was  evidently  what  the 
patient  saleswoman  longed  to  say ;  but  she 
checked  the  words,  and  only  gave  Hildegarde 
an  eloquent  glance,  as  she  turned  to  meet 
a  wild  onset  in  demand  of  macaroons. 

Perhaps  Hildegarde's  fingers  trembled  a  little 
as  she  untied  the  narrow  blue  ribbon  that  bound 
•ip  her  hopes ;  perhaps  she  was  purposely  slow, 
collecting  her  thoughts  and  words.  The  stout 
lady  fumed  and  fidgeted.  "  You  should  never 
allow  things  to  be  tied  in  a  hard  knot !  It 
should  be  one  of  the  first  rules  in  a  place  like 
this,  that  boxes  should  be  fastened  with  india- 
rubber  bands.  Surely  you  know  the  usefulness 
of  india-rubber  bands  ?  I  hope  those  Nuns  are 
fresh.  If  you  did  not  see  them  come  in,  or 
speak  to  the  person  who  brought  them,  how  can 


86  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

you  be  sure  of  their  being  fresh  ?  Stale  cakes 
are  out  of  the  question,  you  know;  nobody 
could  think  of  enduring  stale  cakes ;  and  Nuns, 
in  particular,  must  be  eaten  the  same  day 

they- 

"  These  are  not  Nuns,  madam,"  said  Hilde- 
garde,  as  she  opened  the  box.  "  Perhaps  you 
would  like  to  see  —  " 

•"  Not  Nuns  !  Then  why  did  you  tell  me  they 
were  Nuns  ?  What  are  they,  I  should  like  to 
know  ?  H'm  !  ha  !  very  pretty !  What  do  you 
call  these?" 

"Novices!"  said  Hildegarde,  with  a  flash  of 
inspiration. 

"  Aha !  Novices,  eh  ?  Yes,  yes  !  a  good  name, 
if  they  are  —  are  they  something  new  ?  I  have 
never  seen  them  here  before." 

"  Entirely  new !  "  Hildegarde  assured  her. 
"This  is  the  first  box  that  has  ever  been 
brought  in." 

"  Eh  ?  the  first  ?  Then  how  do  you  know  they 
are  good  ?  How  can  you  conscientiously  rec- 
ommend them  ?  I  always  expect  conscientioue 
treatment  here,  you  know." 


AT    THE   EXCHANGE.  87 

"  Will  you  try  one  ?" 

Hildegarde  handed  her  the  box ;  and  she  was 
soon  crunching  and  nodding  and  smiling,  all 
at  the  same  moment. 

"  De-licious !  I  assure  you,  delicious !  some- 
thing entirely  new  —  Novices  !  Why,  they  are 
exactly  what  I  want  for  my  party  to-night. 
Much  better  than  Nuns,  —  Nuns  have  really 
become  quite  tiresome.  What  is  the  price  of 
the  Novices?" 

Hildegarde  hesitated,  and  glanced  at  the 
saleswoman.  The  latter  leaned  swiftly  for- 
ward, looked,  tasted  a  crumb, — 

"  Five  cents  apiece  !  "  she  said,  quietly.  Five  ! 
Hildegarde  had  thought  of  three,  and  had  built 
all  her  castles  on  that  basis. 

But  the  stout  lady  was  crying  to  heaven 
against  the  price.  "Impossible!  absurd!  Why, 
Nuns  were  only  two  cents  apiece,  Marguerites 
only  three !  The  price  was  ridiculous,  exorbi- 
tant. She  could  not  think  of  paying  — " 

Here  a  small  lady,  richly  but  quietly  dressed, 
came  up,  and  looked  at  the  box.  "  Pretty ! " 
she  said.  "  Graceful  and  ingenious  !  Five  cents 


88  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

apiece,  you  say  ?  Give  me  a  dozen  and  a  half, 
please !  I  should  like  to  have  them  sent 
to  me  once  a  week  for  the  season  ;  they  are 
just  the  things  to  please  my  daughter's  lunch- 
club." 

She  nodded  kindly  to  Hildegarde,  and  passed 
on.  The  stout  lady  gazed  after  her  reverentially. 

"  Mrs.  Cameron  Pine  !  "  she  murmured.  "  She 
will  make  them  the  fashion  instantly.  I  -  -  I  will 
take  the  rest!"  she  cried,  wildly.  "Put  them 
up,  and  send  them  to  me,  —  Mrs.  Newcomb 
Rich,  Madison  Avenue.  Send  me  two  dozen 
every  week,  —  wait !  send  them  the  day  before 
you  send  Mrs.  Pine's,  do  you  hear  ?  the  day 
before !  Don't  forget !  It  is  most  important !  " 
and  puffing  and  nodding,  she,  too,  went  on. 

There  was  a  little  lull  now,  during  which  the 
saleswoman  turned  to  thank  Hildegarde  so  heart- 
ily that  our  heroine  would  have  felt  well  repaid 
even  if  she  had  not  sold  all  her  cakes. 

"  I  cannot  imagine  where  Miss  Berden  is ; 
she  is  always  so  punctual.  This  is  our  busiest 
day,  and  one  of  our  busiest  hours,  and  some 
of  the  ladies,  as  you  saw,  rather  hard  to  please. 


AT   THE   EXCHANGE.  89 

I  really  don't  know  what  I  should  have  done 
if  you  had  not  helped  me;  it  was  very  kind 
and  thoughtful  of  you."  She  gazed  earnestly 
at  Hildegarde,  and  added,  "You  have  a  good 
mother,  I  know,  who  has  taught  you  to  think 
and  help." 

Hildegarde  nodded  and  smiled,  but  said  noth- 
ing, for  the  tears  came  springing  to  her  eyes. 

"And  you  sold  all  the  pretty  cakes!"  added 
the  saleswoman.  "  I  knew  they  would  make  a  hit 
the  moment  I  saw  them.  That  was  partly  why 
I  put  a  good  price  on  them ;  but  it  was  also 
because  I  knew  there  must  be  a  good  deal  of  nice 
and  careful  work  in  making  them.  I  wonder 
-  you  have  been  so  good,  I  am  ashamed  to  ask 
you  anything  more,  but  there  is  no  one  here  now ; 
would  you  be  willing  to  hold  the  fort  while  I  run 
to  the  corner  and  post  a  letter  ?  " 

Hildegarde  assented  cheerfully,  and  Miss 
Adams  (for  by  this  name  she  now  introduced 
herself)  put  on  her  hat  and  went  out.  Hilde- 
garde remained  mistress  of  the  situation,  and  oc- 
cupied herself  in  tidying  up  the  marble  counter, 
brushing  away  the  crumbs,  and  rearranging 


90  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

some  biscuits  that  had  fallen  from  their  dainty 
pyramid. 

Now  voices  were  heard  at  the  door,  and 
a  gay  group  entered.  A  splendid  carriage 
stood  without,  and  these  rustling,  high-plurned 
ladies  had  evidently  just  dismounted  from  it. 
There  were  four  of  them,  and  they  were  joined 
in  another  moment  by  two  or  three  more.  Ap- 
parently, all  had  been  at  some  concert,  for  they 
were  talking  all  at  once,  and  Hildegarde  heard 
the  words,  "  Exquisite  !  "  "  Technique  !  "  "  An- 
dante ! "  etc.,  repeated  over  and  over.  She 
became  interested,  and  forgot  for  the  moment 
her  position,  when  something  curious  recalled  it 
to  her.  She  recognised,  in  one  of  the  younger 
ladies,  her  cousin  Blanche  Van  Dene,  one  of 
Mrs.  Delansing's  granddaughters  ;  and  almost  at 
the  same  instant,  she  became  aware  that  Blanche 
had  recognised  her,  and  that  she  was  anxious  to 
avoid  any  open  recognition.  Her  eyes  had  met 
Hildegarde's  for  one  second ;  the  next,  she  had 
turned  her  back  squarely,  and  was  chattering 
volubly  in  the  ear  of  her  neighbour. 

A  wave  of  anger  surged  over  Hildegarde,  leav- 


IIILDEGARDE    GRAIIAME,    IN    THE    NAME    OF    ALL    THAT'S 
WONDERFUL !  '  " 


AT  THE    EXCHANGE.  91 

ing  the  very  tips  of  her  ears  pink  as  it  receded ; 
but  the  wave  of  amusement  followed  it  quickly, 
and  the  second  wave  bore  a  little  spray  of  malice. 
Should  she  call  to  her,  and  say,  "Dearest  Blanche, 
how  is  your  dear  mother  ?  "  Or  she  might  put  on 
a  twang  —  Hildegarde  had  an  excellent  twang  at 
her  disposal,  and  say,  "  Hello,  Blanchey  !  Haow's 
yer  haalth,  and  haow's  the  folks  to  home?"  Oh! 
it  would  be  fun  !  And  surely  the  girl  deserved  it ! 
Such  bad  form,  to  say  nothing  of  bad  feeling ! 
But  here  Hildegarde  seemed  to  hear  a  certain 
familiar  voice  saying,  "  My  dear,  a  debt  of  rude- 
ness is  one  that  should  never  be  paid !  "  So  she 
held  her  tongue,  and  contented  herself  with  look- 
ing hard  at  Blanche's  back,  which  showed  con- 
sciousness and  discomfort  in  every  line. 

So  intent  was  Hildegarde  on  her  cousin's 
back,  that  she  did  not  notice  that  one  of  the 
other  ladies  had  turned  round,  and  was  gazing  at 
her  in  perplexity  ;  next  moment  a  shout  rang  out, 
in  a  clear,  joyous  voice  that  made  every  one  start. 

"Hilda  Grahame,  in  the  name  of  all  that 
is  wonderful !  My  dear,  what  sky  have  you 
dropped  from?" 


92  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

Hildegarde  started,  and  saw  a  splendid  vision 
advancing  towards  her  with  outstretched  hand. 
A  girl  somewhat  older  than  herself,  with  the 
walk  and  figure  of  a  goddess  and  the  dress  of  a 
queen;  a  face  of  almost  faultless  beauty,  and 
large  clear  eyes  through  which  looked  a  soul 
like  a  child's ;  she  was  one  of  the  famous  beau- 
ties of  the  day,  famous  alike  for  her  loveliness, 
her  great  fortune,  and  the  pride  of  her  ancient 
name. 

"  My  dear,"  she  repeated,  taking  both  Hilde- 
garde's  hands  in  hers,  "what  sky  have  you 
dropped  from,  and  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Dear  Imperia ! "  said  Hildegarde,  calling  her 
by  the  old  familiar  school  name  that  came  natu- 
rally to  her  lips.  "  How  delightful  to  see  you  !  I 
am  selling  cakes ;  will  you  have  some  ?  There 
were  some  that  I  made  myself,  but  they  are  all 
sold.  Here  are  various  others,  doubtless  inferior, 
but  still  good." 

"  Of  course  I  will  have  some  !  "  cried  Imperia. 
"  Why,  this  is  perfectly  delightful !  Do  you  really 
come  here  ?  regularly,  I  mean,  and  have  all  the 
cakes  you  want  ?  I  never  heard  of  such  fun.  Give 


AT   THE    EXCHANGE.  93 

me  three  dozen  of  everything,  and  we'll  have  a 
carouse.  Here,  girls !  "  she  turned  and  called  to 
the  others,  who  were  looking  curiously  at  the 
two ;  "  come  here,  and  tell  me  who  this  is ! 
Shade  of  Madame  Haut-ton,  hover  over  us,  and 
bless  this  reunion  !  " 

"  Hildegarde  Grahame  !  Hilda !  Queen  Hilde- 
garde ! "  cried  several  voices ;  and  Hildegarde 
was  instantly  surrounded  by  the  crowd  of  but- 
terflies, all  caressing  and  questioning,  laughing 
and  talking  at  once.  One  or  two  looked  puz- 
zled, other  one  or  two  sad,  as  they  saw  their 
gay  schoolmate  of  former  days  standing  behind 
the  counter,  quiet  and  self-possessed,  and  appar- 
ently entirely  at  home.  But  visible  distress  was 
on  one  countenance,  and  Hildegarde,  charitable, 
refrained  from  looking  at  her  cousin,  when 
Imperia  exclaimed,  "  Why,  here  is  Blanche  Van 
Dene  !  She  is  your  cousin,  isn't  she  ?  Blanche, 
here  is  Hilda,  who  used  to  be  so  good  to  you  at 
school,  and  help  you  with  your  spelling.  Dear 
me,  Hilda,  do  you  remember  how  Blanchey  used 
to  spell?" 

Hildegarde  shook  hands  with  her  cousin  com- 


94  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

posedly,  and  only  her  dancing  eyes  showed  any 
consciousness  of  the  situation.  Blanche  mut- 
tered some  greeting,  and  then  recollected  an 
engagement  and  hurried  off.  The  lady  Imperia 
looked  after  her  with  good-natured  contempt. 

"  Same  little  animal,  my  dear !  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Hilda,  but  really,  you  know,  we  remem- 
ber her  in  her  pinafores,  and  she  was  a  snob 
then.  But  now  tell  us  all  about  it,  like  a  good 
girl !  You  are  not  in  trouble,  dear  old  thing  ?  " 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened  and  Miss 
Adams  came  hurrying  in,  breathless  and  apolo- 
getic. There  had  been  a  block  in  the  street  — 
she  was  on  the  wrong  side  and  could  not  get 
back  —  would  Hildegarde  please  excuse  her  for 
being  so  long  ? 

"  Oh,  but  I  have  had  a  delightful  time,  Miss 
Adams  !  "  cried  Hildegarde.  "  And  I  have  sold 
three  dozen  of  everything  —  was  that  a  real 
offer,  Imperia?" 

Imperia  vowed  that  it  was ;  and  Hildegarde 
and  Miss  Adams  together  tied  up  the  parcels, 
while  all  chatted  together  like  old  friends.  The 
situation  was  explained,  and  so  many  dozens  of 


AT  THE    EXCHANGE.  95 

"  Novices  "  were  ordered  for  every  week  that 
Hildegarde  declared  her  intention  of  taking  back 
with  her  to  Braeside  a  chef  and  three  kitchen- 
maids  to  help  her  in  the  manufacture.  Finally, 
she  was  whirled  away  in  her  friend's  purple 
chariot  for  a  drive  in  the  park,  and  had  the 
pleasure  of  passing  her  cousin  Blanche  on  the 
way,  looking  sad  and  sorry. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

MORE    GREETINGS. 

"  AND  you  won't  think  better  of  it  ?  Hilda,  I 
am  in  despair!  Think  of  it,  my  dear!  Calve, 
and  both  the  De  Reszkes  —  there  will  never  be 
such  a  performance  again,  perhaps,  in  our  life- 
times !  And  all  the  good  time  we  should  have 
between  the  acts  —  and  our  box  will  be  simply 
full  of  people  all  the  evening  —  oh,  you  must 
come,  Hilda  Grahame  !  " 

People  said  of  Helena  Desmond  that  if  she 
had  a  fault,  it  was  that  of  speaking  too  loud. 
She  was  so  full  of  the  joy  of  living,  so  powerful 
and  vigorous  in  all  her  emotions,  pleasurable  or 
painful,  that  her  clear,  resonant  voice  was  apt  to 
be  heard  like  the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  dominat- 
ing other  and  feebler  organs.  Mrs.  Delansing, 
sitting  erect  behind  her  tea  equipage,  heard  it, 
and  shivered  slightly ;  but  Hildegarde's  reply 


MORE   GREETINGS.  97 

was  spoken  so  low  that  she  could  not  catch  a 
syllable.  Then  came :  "  No,  no,  I  shouldn't ! 
Don't  tell  me !  I  should  do  nothing  of  the  sort ! 
We  are  to  take  our  opportunities  as  they  come, 
—  time  enough  for  sacrifices  when  Lent  comes. 
You  know  I  don't  mean  that,  Hilda;  and  you 
know  you  are  a  dear,  dear, — "  here  followed  the 
sound  of  good  hearty  kisses,  and  Mrs.  Delansing 
shivered  again ;  then  the  door  closed  with  a  solid 
slam,  and  all  was  silent. 

Hildegarde  came  into  the  room,  her  hands  full 
of  roses. 

"Aunt  Emily,"  she  said,  "Helena  Desmond 
sent  you  these !  She  would  have  come  in,  but 
she  was  late  already  for  a  reception.  Aren't 
they  lovely?" 

Mrs.  Delansing  bent  her  head  over  the  flow- 
ers ;  they  were  among  the  few  things  she  en- 
joyed. 

"  Beautiful !  "  she  said.  "  It  was  very  kindly 
done  of  Miss  Desmond.  I  should  have  been 
glad  to  see  her.  Was  —  was  that  she  at  the 
door,  speaking  so  loud?" 

"  Yes,"  said   Hildegarde.     "  She   was   speak- 


98  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

ing  rather  loud,  perhaps ;  but  her  voice  is  so 
musical,  I  don't  think  one  minds  it  in  her,  some- 
how. She  is  a  glorious  creature !  " 

Mrs.  Delansing  seemed  absent  and  disturbed. 
"She — it  is  not  always  possible  to  avoid  over- 
hearing portions  of  conversations,  when  carried 
on  in  a  high  key  —  I  gathered  that  some  invita- 
tion had  been  extended  to  you,  Hildegarde  — 
for  this  evening." 

"  Yes  !  "  said  Hildegarde,  rather  reluctantly. 
"She  wanted  me  to  go  to  the  opera  with  her, 
but  I  didn't  think  I  would  better." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  demanded  her  aunt,  severely. 
"  Miss  Desmond  is  not  accustomed  to  have  her 
invitations  refused,  —  and  you  are  bound  to  take 
advantage  of  such  opportunities  as  may  present 
themselves  to  you,  living  in  the  extraordinary 
way  that  your  mother  thinks  suitable  for  you." 

"  Oh,  well !  "  said  Hildegarde,  "  Helena  under- 
stood perfectly,  and  I  thought  it  best  not  to  go." 

She  was  arranging  the  flowery  as  she  spoke, 
and  did  not  see  the  curious  change  that  seemed 
to  come  over  Mrs.  Delan sing's  face.  It  was  as 
if  the  stony  repose  of  her  features  were  broken, 


MORE    GREETINGS.  99 

—  some  shifting  light  seemed  to  pass  over  her, 
changing  into  shadow,  but  a  shadow  softened 
into  something  approaching  tenderness. 

"  Hildegarde,  it  is  not  on  my  account  that 
you  are  making  this  sacrifice  ?  I  cannot  per- 
mit—" 

Hildegarde  looked  up ;  then  laid  down  her 
roses,  and  crossed  the  room  to  lay  her  hand 
on  her  aunt's  shoulder. 

"  Of  course  it  is,  Aunt  Emily ! "  she  said, 
impulsively.  "  I  came  here  to .  see  you,  not  to 
go  to  the  opera.  I  have  been  out  already  more 
than  I  should  to-day,  but  —  but  things  hap- 
pened, somehow.  And  this  is  the  last  evening 
we  shall  have  together,  and  you  know  we  are  to 
play  the  grand  final  rubber ;  and  —  and  I  wanted 
to  stay." 

The  old  lady  began  to  tremble  in  her  chair ; 
a  mist  came  over  her  keen  black  eyes. 

"  My  grandchildren  would  have  gone ! "  she 
cried.  "  Blanche  and  Violette  would  have  gone, 
and  not  have  thought  it  necessary  even  to  tell 
me.  I  have  done  everything  for  them,  and 
nothing-  Blanche  has  been  here  this  after- 


100  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

noon !  "  she  added,  in  a  different  voice,  strug- 
gling for  her  usual  composure.  "  She  said  — 
but  it  is  of  no  consequence  what  she  said." 

"  No,  it  really  isn't,  Aunt  Emily !  "  said  Hilde- 
garde,  venturing  to  stroke  the  silken  shoulder 
affectionately.  "  Suppose  we  don't  mind  about 
Blanche  now;  she  is  very  young  for  her  age, 
don't  you  think  ?  I  can  finish  that  story  before 
I  go  to  dress  for  dinner." 

But  Mrs.  Delansing  had  something  else  to 
say. 

"  Thomas  Ferrers  came  to  see  me,  also ! " 
she  said.  "  Did  you  ask  him  to  do  so  ?  " 

«  Oh  —  no  !  "  said  Hildegarde.  « I  -  - 1  only 
told  him  that  you  did  not  go  out  very  much, 
and  —  and  he  said  at  once  that  he  should  come 
to  see  you  before  he  left  town." 

"  He  is  grown  an  old  man ! "  said  Mrs. 
Delansing.  "Wild  Tom  Ferrers!  We  had  a 
great  deal  of  talk ;  much  of  it  about  you.  I  am 
bound  to  say  that  he  gave  me  a  different  impres-. 
sion  of  your  life.  You  —  you  must  all  be  very 
happy  there  together !  " 

The  tone  was  piteous  in  its  wistfulness,  and 


MORE    GREETINGS.  101 

Hildegarde  responded  heartily.  "  You  must 
come  and  see  for  yourself  some  day,  Aunt 
Emily !  We  are  happy,  as  happy  as  the  day 
is  long !  " 

The  evening  passed  quickly  and  pleasantly. 
Mrs.  Delansing  unbent  more  than  Hildegarde 
could  have  supposed  possible,  and  even  smiled 
as  she  told,  over  the  backgammon  board,  some 
anecdotes  of  Colonel  Ferrers' s  wild  youth.  One 
could  not  imagine  her  laughing  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, but  her  smile,  when  she  was  amused, 
was  fine  and  delicate,  and  made  a  wonderful 
difference  in  her  face. 

When  bedtime  came,  she  held  Hildegarde' s 
hands  in  hers  for  several  minutes,  looking  at  her 
with  a  searching  gaze. 

"  You  have  not  found  it  too  dull  ?  "  she  said. 
"  Hobson  says  she  heard  you  singing  in  your 
room  to-day !  You  do  not  find  this  a  dreary 
cage,  where  no  young  life  could  be  happy  ? " 

Hildegarde  had  found  it  so  the  first  day,  but 
now  all  was  changed,  and  she  could  answer 
heartily,  "No,  indeed,  Aunt  Emily!  I  have 
had  a  very  pleasant  visit,  and  I  am  —  oh,  so 


102  HILDEGARDE'S  HARVEST. 

glad  I  came !  I  don't  believe  I  should  ever 
have  known  you  if  I  had  not  been  here  in  the 
house ;  and  I  am  very,  very  glad  to  know  you, 
Aunt  Emily.  May  I  come  again  ?  "  She  bent, 
and  kissed  the  old  lady's  cheek,  and  was  de- 
lighted to  have  her  kiss  warmly  returned. 

"Come  whenever  you  will,  my  child!"  Mrs. 
Delansing  said.  "  Come  as  often  as  you  can ; 
I  shall  be  better  for  every  time  I  see  you." 

So  it  was  arranged  that  later  in  the  winter 
Hildegarde  was  to  come  to  Gramercy  Park  for 
a  good  visit,  and  hear  the  German  opera ;  and 
when  the  aunt  and  niece  finally  said  good-bye  at 
the  bedroom  door,  Hildegarde  felt  that  she  had 
made  a  new  friend ;  while  the  lonely  old  woman 
went  to  bed  with  a  warmer  heart  than  she  had 
felt  in  her  bosom  for  years. 

"Why,  mum,"  said  Hobson,  "I  declare  to 
goodness,  you  look  ten  years  younger  since  that 
young  lady  come  here  !  " 

"  I  am  ten  years  younger,  Hobson ! "  said 
Mrs.  Delansing,  gravely.  "  I  will  have  the 
nightcap  with  the  Valenciennes  frill,  if  you 
please." 


MORE   GREETINGS.  103 

Hildegarde  sent  her  little  trunk  off  by  the 
expressman,  and  after  bidding  good-bye  to  Hob- 
son,  who  begged  her  most  earnestly  to  come 
again  soon,  started  off  for  her  final  shopping- 
bout.  She  had  some  idea  of  lunching  at  Pur- 
cell's,  and  taking  an  afternoon  train  for  home. 
There  were  still  several  things  to  be  attended 
to,  and  she  might  —  it  was  not  very  far  from 
Blank  &  Blank's  —  she  might  be  able  to  run 
round  and  see  if  Rose  Flower  were  at  home. 
It  was  doubtful,  for  she  had  been  away  most 
of  the  fall,  but  there  was  always  a  chance  of 
her  having  returned.  The  dear  Rose !  How 
good  it  would  be  to  see  her,  and  Doctor  Flower, 
and,  perhaps,  Bubble ! 

It  was  eleven  o'clock  before  she  reached 
Blank  &  Blank's,  and  the  vast  shop  was  filled 
with  a  surging  crowd  of  women,  young  and  old, 
smart  and  dowdy,  rich  and  poor.  Here  and 
there  a  lone  man  was  seen,  standing  bewildered, 
with  a  sample  in  his  hand  of  something  that  he 
was  to  match  ;  here  and  there,  too,  stood  the 
floor  -  walkers,  in  calm  and  conscious  dignity, 
the  heroes  of  the  shopping  -  world ;  but  these 


104  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

were  only  occasional  flecks  on  the  frothing  tide 
of  womanhood.  Hildegarde,  after  several  vain 
attempts,  succeeded  in  reaching  the  counter  she 
sought.  Before  it  stood  a  row  of  women,  elbow 
to  elbow,  each  bent  on  her  own  quest ;  behind 
it  were  the  shop-women,  endeavouring  to  satisfy 
all  demands  at  one  and  the  same  moment. 

Endeavouring,  most  of  them,  that  is  ;  but  even 
the  shop-woman,  tried  as  she  is  in  the  furnace,  is 
not  always  pure  gold.  The  young  woman  who 
stood  near  Hildegarde  may  have  been  too  tired, 
or  may  have  been  ill ;  she  certainly  was  rude. 
Hildegarde  had  taken  her  stand  directly  behind 
a  plainly  dressed,  elderly  woman,  shrewdly  judg- 
ing that  she  would  be  likely  to  make  some 
definite  purchase  and  then  depart,  instead  of 
fingering  half  the  goods  on  the  counter,  as 
many  of  the  customers  were  doing.  The  el- 
derly woman  was  evidently  in  haste.  She 
held  up  the  black  cashmere  that  she  had  been 
examining,  and  said,  civilly,  "  Will  you  please 
tell  me  the  price  of  this  ? "  The  question  was 
repeated  several  times ;  the  shop-woman,  after 
one  glance  at  the  quiet,  unstylish  figure,  turned 


MORE   GREETINGS.  105 

her  shoulder,  and  began  to  press  some  goods 
volubly  on  a  departing  shopper. 

"  Please  !  "  said  the  quiet  woman  again.  "  I 
am  in  haste,  and  want  to  buy  some  of  this. 
Will  you  please  tell  me  the  price  ? " 

"  You'll  have  to  wait  your  turn,  lady !  "  was 
the  reply ;  and  voice  and  tone  were  equally  ill- 
bred.  "  I  can't  wait  on  everybody  at  once." 

"I  have  been  waiting  fifteen  minutes,"  was 
the  reply ;  "  and  my  turn  has  come  over  and 
over  again." 

That  was  enough  for  Hildegarde.  She  reached 
over  the  woman's  shoulder,  and  rapped  sharply 
on  the  counter.  "  Will  you  tell  the  lady  the 
price  of  this  cashmere,  or  shall  I  call  Mr. 
Jones?" 

The  shop -woman  looked  up  hastily,  caught 
sight  of  two  blazing  eyes,  and  a  face  like  white 
lightning,  and  quailed. 

"I  —  I'm  sure  I  was  doing  my  best!"  she 
muttered.  "It's  sixty  cents  a  yard." 

"If  this  is  your  best,  you  have  no  place 
here ! "  said  the  flashing  person  before  her. 
"  How  many  yards  would  you  like,  madam  ? 


106  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

You  shall  —  oh !  oh,  my  dear !  Oh,  Nurse 
Lucy,  it  is  not  really  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  blessed  lamb !  "  cried  Nurse  Lucy, 
"  Am  I  awake  or  dreaming,  I  says  to  myself  the 
minute  I  heard  your  darling  voice  !  " 

And  the  stately  maiden  in  blue  serge,  and  the 
gray-haired  woman  in  black  alpaca,  fell  on  each 
other's  neck,  and  fairly  cried  for  joy,  while  the 
roar  of  the  shopping  actually  ceased  —  for  one 
moment.  Then  it  rose  again,  —  what  did  it 
matter  to  anybody,  when  a  bargain  sale  was 
on,  who  met  or  who  parted  ?  And  the  two 
friends,  holding  each  other  fast  by  the  hand, 
got  into  a  quiet  corner  apart,  in  a  haven  dedi- 
cated to  Marseilles  quilts,  which  nobody  was 
buying,  and  sat  down  on  two  stools,  and  gazed 
their  fill. 

"I  wonder  what  is  the  meaning  of  it  all!" 
cried  Hildegarde.  "  One  after  another,  I  keep 
meeting  all  the  people  I  care  most  about ;  first 
one  friend,  and  then  another,  —  and  now  you, 
you  dear,  blessed  Nurse  Lucy.  Oh !  what  are 
you  doing  here  ?  and  where  is  Mr.  Hartley  ?  and 
—  and  —  have  you  seen  Rose  and  Bubble  ?  I 


MORE    GREETINGS.  107 

was  wondering  whether  I  could  find  them. 
And  —  oh,  do  tell  me  all  about  everything, 
please  !  " 

She  paused,  breathless,  and  Nurse  Lucy  took 
up  the  tale,  drying  her  joyful  tears  the  while. 

"My  pretty!  to  think  of  it  being  you!  and 
me  thinking  of  you  miles  away,  and  wishing  I 
could  run  down  and  see  you  and  your  blessed 
mother,  as  you've  asked  me  a  many  times  so 
kind.  And  Jacob,  —  why,  he's  right  outside, 
dear,  waiting  for  me.  He  can't  abear  a  crowd 
of  people,  you  know,  and  New  York  almost 
smothers  him  anyway,  poor  soul.  We  came  up 
for  the  day,  dear,  to  see  Pinkrosia,  and  Bubble, 
and  the  Doctor.  We  had  a  note  from  Doctor 
Flower  —  ah !  what  a  good  man  he  is !  —  and  he 
wouldn't  take  no  for  an  answer,  but  we  must 
come  up  and  see  them  in  their  own  home ;  and 
so  here  we  are,  —  came  up  on  the  early  train 
this  morning,  as  Jacob  had  business  in  the  city. 
And  now  !  —  and  my  dear  looking  so  well  and  so 
beautiful,  and  the  living  spirit  of  her  mother  —  " 

"  Oh,  hush,  Nurse  Lucy !  you  must  not  flatter 
me  !  "  cried  Hildegarde.  "  See  !  there  is  your 


108  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

parcel  all  done  up !  I  will  take  it  for  you ;  and 
I  don't  think  that  young  woman  will  neglect  a 
customer  again  for  one  while." 

Arm  in  arm,  they  passed  through  the  crowd. 
As  they  reached  the  street,  Mrs.  Hartley  pressed 
Hildegarde's  arm.  "Hush,  dear!  stop  a  min- 
ute! there's  Jacob;  waiting  so  patient,  poor 
soul !  To  think  how  surprised  he  will  be ! 
What  shall  we  say  to  him  ?  " 

"I  know!"  said  Hildegarde.  "Let  me  tell 
him,  Nurse  Lucy !  " 

A  tall,  stalwart  man  was  standing  with  his 
back  to  them ;  his  legs  were  rather  wide  apart, 
his  shoulders  squared,  and  he  seemed  to  have 
planted  himself  against  the  throng  of  people 
that  hurried  and  jostled  by  him.  Discontent 
was  visible  in  every  line  of  his  figure,  and  Hil de- 
garde  knew  just  how  his  mouth  was  puckered, 
though  she  could  not  see  it. 

Hildegarde  stepped  up  softly  behind  him,  and 
spoke  in  his  ear. 

"  And  what  do  you  expect  to  get  for  winter 
wheat,  Mr.  Hartley?" 

The  farmer  turned  round  as  if  he  had  been 


MORE    GREETINGS.  109 

shot.  "  What  in  —  now  take  me  away !  take 
me  away  home,  before  I  lose  any  senses  this 
place  has  left  me.  This  ain't  Huldy  Grahame, 
no  way  of  the  world !  " 

Convinced  that  it  was  that  young  person  her- 
self, he  seized  her  two  hands,  and  drew  her  for- 
cibly along,  as  he  made  his  way  through  the 
crowd.  "Lucy  found  ye?"  he  said.  "I  bet 
Lucy  found  ye.  Nothin'  like  women !  I've  been 
thinkin'  about  ye  all  this  blessed  day,  and  looked 
at  every  gal  that  went  by,  and  they  was  about 
ten  thousand  of  'em,  and  not  one  I'd  look  at 
twice.  Come  along,  Lucy !  I've  done  all  the 
shoppin'  I  want !  Let's  get  home  to  Doctor 
Flower's,  and  have  a  sight  at  this  gal,  before  I 
wake  up  and  find  she's  a  dream ! " 

As  the  good  man  spoke,  he  hurried  Hilde- 
garde  along  at  a  surprising  rate,  Nurse  Lucy 
following  as  best  she  might.  Hildegarde  was 
fairly  bewildered  by  all  these  sudden  meetings. 
She  began  to  feel  as  if  every  street  corner  must 
reveal  some  new  vision;  she  looked  for  Bub- 
ble, —  for  the  Merry  weathers  ;  it  seemed  to  her, 
too,  almost  dreamlike  in  its  strangeness.  Yet 


110  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

after  all,  there  is  nothing  wonderful  in  meeting 
all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men  in  the  course  of 
two  days  in  New  York. 

A  short  walk  brought  them  to  a  quiet,  pleas- 
ant street,  where  the  usual  brown  stone  houses 
had  rather  a  special  look  of  care  and  neatness. 
There  were  many  flowers  in  the  windows ;  the 
curtains  were  more  often  muslin  than  lace,  but 
they  were  fresh  and  white,  and  one  felt  that  it 
was  a  pleasant  neighbourhood,  a  neighbourhood 
of  homes. 

"  You  have  been  here  before,  dear  ? "  asked 
Mrs.  Hartley. 

"  No, "  replied  Hildegarde.  "  I  have  been 
meaning  all  the  fall  to  come,  ever  since  they 
came  back  from  Europe  and  took  this  house,  but 
one  thing  and  another  has  prevented.  As  I  told 
you,  I  meant  to  try  to  see  them  to-day,  in  any 
case.  But  Rose  does  not  know  I  am  in  town ; 
it  will  be  another  surprise.  Dear  Kose  !  " 

"Well,  I  do  suppose  Pinkrosia  '11  be  glad 
to  see  you ! "  said  Jacob  Hartley.  "  But  if 
she  sets  up  to  be  as  glad  as  Marm  Lucy  arid 
I  be,  she'll  have  to  hear  something,  that's  all. 


MORE    GREETINGS.  Ill 

Huldy  Grahame's  my  gal  this  time,  and  no 
mistake !  " 

Hildegarde  wondered  what  the  Colonel  would 
say  to  this ;  wondered  also  if  there  were  any 
one  else  —  but  the  thought  dismissed  itself  un- 
finished. 

Here  they  were  now,  in  a  pretty,  homelike 
parlour,  hung  with  rose-colour,  —  ah  !  Doctor 
Fowler  always  had  the  prettiest  ideas !  —  wait- 
ing for  their  hostess.  A  light  step  on  the  stairs  ! 
As  it  came  down,  quickly  and  steadily,  Hilde- 
garde saw  many  pictures,  all  in  a  moment. 
First,  a  girl  in  a  wheeled  chair,  pale  and  sweet- 
faced,  saying  quietly  that  she  could  not  walk,  — 
that  she  had  not  walked  since  she  was  three 
years  old,  —  pointing  out  the  beauty  and  conven- 
ience of  'her  precious  chair,  in  which  she  was  a 
prisoner.  Then,  herself,  Hildegarde  Grahame, 
walking  up  and  down  the  anteroom  of  the  hos- 
pital, waiting  in  an  agony  of  suspense  for  news ; 
then  her  mother's  face,  and  Doctor  Flower  be- 
hind her,  both  smiling,  and  the  blessed  words, 
"  It  is  all  right !  " 

The  tears   sprang  to  her  eyes.      Then  came 


112  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

the  vision  of  their  two  selves,  herself  and  her 
friend,  in  their  happy,  happy  holiday  summer  at 
Cousin  Wealthy  Bond's ;  the  gradual  recovery, 
the  roses  coming  in  the  pale  cheeks,  the  step, 
growing  ever  firmer,  more  elastic.  Then  —  but 
there  was  time  for  no  more.  Here  she  was  at 
the  doo'r,  Rose  Flower,  no  longer  a  cripple,  no 
longer  even  an  invalid,  but  the  happy  wife  of  one 
of  the  best  men  in  the  world. 

Rose's  cry  of  surprise  was  very  different  from 
the  clarion  shout  with  which  Helena  Desmond 
had  greeted  her  friend.  It  was  soft  and  low,  — 
a  note  like  that  of  a  bird  coming  home  to  its 
nest.  "  Hilda !  my  Hilda !  oh,  happy,  happy 
day!" 

The  two  girls  (for  Rose  was  a  girl  still,  if 
she  was  a  married  woman!)  held  each  other 
close  for  a  little,  without  a  word;  the  words  did 
not  come,  nor  was  there  need  of  them ;  each 
knew  the  other's  heart  was  full  of  love  that 
had  had  steady  life  and  growth  for  five  years. 
"  My  dear  !  "  they  said ;  and  then  again,  "  My 
dear !  "  and  that  was  all. 

But    a  few   minutes    later,    when    all    four 


MORE   GREETINGS.  113 

were  seated  in  a  circle,  the  girls  hand  in  hand, 
the  old  people  looking  from  one  to  the  other 
with  eyes  of  delight,  the  words  came  fast 
enough. 

Rose  had  to  tell  of  her  summer  abroad,  of  all 
the  new  worlds  that  had  opened  before  the  coun- 
try-bred girl,  —  worlds  of  which  she  had  dreamed 
all  her  life,  which  she  had  never  thought  to  see 
with  her  bodily  eyes.  Then  Hildegarde  must 
tell  of  her  summer,  all  the  wonders  of  the 
camp,  the  new  friends,  grown  so  dear  in  so 
short  a  time ;  of  Hugh  and  the  Colonel,  and 
all  the  delights  of  Braeside  and  Roseholme ; 
and  then  both  girls  must  hear  all  about  affairs 
at  Hartley's  Glen,  from  the  greatest  to  the 
least. 

"  Oh,  Nurse  Lucy,  is  the  old  yellow  hen  still 
alive  —  Mrs.  Whittaker,  I  mean?  Surely  you 
know  the  hen  we  always  called  Mrs.  Whittaker. 
She  used,  to  tell  us  her  name  whenever  she  laid 
an  egg.  And  the  cats !  How  are  the  dear  cats  ? 
Do  you  think  Camaralzaman  remembers  me, 
Nurse  Lucy?  And  do  you  try  to  say  his  whole 
name  once  in  a  while,  so  that  he  will  not  forget 


114  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

it  ?  And  how  are  all  the  people  in  the  village  ? 
How  is  Miss  Bean  ?  Does  she  still  trim  hats  ?  — 
Oh,  Rose,  do  you  remember  the  funny  hats? 
There  was  a  green  satin  one,  the  first  time  I 
went  there  —  my  dear !  she  wanted  me  to  buy 
it !  But  she  was  so  good,  and  kind,  and  nice ! 
Everybody  in  the  village  is  nice !  " 

"Hilda,  do  you  remember  when  Bubble 
sprained  his  ankle,  and  the  letter  he  wrote 
you  ?  Oh,  such  a  funny  letter,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"  Remember  it  ?  I  have  it  in  one  of  my  most 
precious  portfolios !  But,  oh,  Nurse  Lucy,  you 
haven't  told  us  a  word  about  the  cows.  Dear 
cows!  How  are  they  all?" 

And  so  on,  and  so  on,  happy,  foolish  talk, 
with  laughter  breaking  through  it  at  every 
moment,  as  one  recollection  brought  up  another. 
And  in  the  midst  of  it  all,  who  is  this  tall  youth 
who  comes  silently  into  the  hall,  and  stands 
silent  in  the  doorway,  gazing  at  all  the  merry 
talkers  ?  No  one  sees  him  ;  he  stands  and  looks 
from  one  to  the  other,  with  shining  eyes.  A 
slight,  trim  figure,  well-dressed,  alert,  quickness 
and  energy  in  every  line  of  it ;  a  face  not  hand- 


MORE    GREETINGS.  115 

some,  certainly,  but  so  full  of  life  and  intelli- 
gence and  good-will  that  whoever  looks  at  it 
once  is  sure  to  look  again.  There  he  stands, 
silent,  absorbed ;  and  so  standing,  he,  too,  sees 
visions.  A  garden,  and  a  boy  at  work  in  it; 
a  freckled,  towsled  boy,  fighting  weeds  with  a 
hoe,  but  keeping  one  eye  on  a  tattered  spell- 
ing-book that  lies  beside  him.  Ten  weeds  to 
a  word,  that  was  the  rule ;  big  weeds,  of  course, 
—  he  did  not  count  chickweed.  What  was  the 
word,  —  ah  !  yes  !  anticipate  !  That  was  it ! 
And  then  he  looked  up,  and  saw  the  face  look- 
ing through  the  hedge,  —  the  beautiful  face, 
with  the  proud,  pretty  mouth,  and  the  bright 
eyes.  It  had  hardly  changed,  save  that  the 
mouth  was  now  gentle,  instead  of  proud.  And 
then  she  came  forward,  and  talked  to  him,  —  to 
him,  in  his  old  shirt  and  trousers,  and  asked 
about  his  lessons,  and  offered  to  teach  him.  Ah, 
yes !  that  was  the  beginning  of  it  all,  the  new 
life,  the  new  world,  the  new  joy ! 

There  was  a  suspicion  of  moisture  in  the 
youth's  bright  blue  eyes,  but  they  twinkled 
nevertheless;  and  when  he  spoke,  it  was  in 


116  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

the  old,  homely  speech  that  he  loved,  and  in 
the  very  words  that  he  had  spoken  that  day, 
all  these  happy  years  ago. 

"  I  swan  !  "  said  Zerabbabel  Chirk.     "I  reelly 
do  !     I  swan  to  man !  " 


CHAPTER   VII. 

MERRY   WEATHER    SIGNS. 

BUT  the  best  of  all,  perhaps,  was  telling  about 
it  afterward.  Sitting  by  the  fire  that  evening, 
in  the  pleasant  sitting-room,  Hildegarde  told  her 
mother  all  about  the  Great  Frisk,  as  she  called 
it;  and  it  would  have  been  hard  to  say  whether 
narrator  or  listener  were  the  more  interested. 

"  But,  child,"  said  Mrs.  Grahame,  "  how  was  it 
possible  for  you  to  do  so  much,  and  see  so  many 
people  in  three  days,  or,  rather,  two  days  and  a 
half  ?  I  cannot  comprehend  it !  " 

"  Nor  can  I !  "  laughed  Hildegarde.  «  But  — 
it  just  happened,  you  know !  Why,  dear,  it 
seemed  to  rain  friends !  Wherever  I  turned 
I  ran  into  some  one  I  loved.  Oh,  I  feel  so 
rich,  —  rich  in  every  way  !  The  money  in  my 
pocket  is  the  least  part  of  it  all,  and  yet  I  am 
glad  enough  of  that,  too.  Only  think  of  my  get- 


118  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

ting  such  a  price !  And  eight  or  ten  dozen  to 
send  every  week !  It  is  like  a  fairy  story,  isn't 
it,  darling  ?  And  then  to  meet  Helena,  —  dear 
Helena !  Oh,  she  was  so  delightful !  And  just 
to  see  her  was  enough  to  fill  one  with  beauty  for 
the  whole  day.  She  wears  her  hair  brushed 
back  now,  —  you  remember  how  it  waves, — 
wonderful  hair !  And  she  was  in  dark  blue 
velvet,  trimmed  with  chinchilla,  and  —  and  alto- 
gether, my  love,  if  the  Queen  of  Sheba  had  seen 
her,  her  spirit  would  have  died  within  her  twice 
over.  And  just  the  same  dear,  whole-souled 
creature  as  ever !  She  never  can  change.  She 
promises  to  come  out  here  before  she  goes  to 
Washington." 

"That  will  be  delightful!"  said  Mrs.  Gra- 
hame.  "I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  Helena 
again;  I  have  always  hoped  that  when  she 
•  came  back  you  would  see  something  of  her 
again.  She  was  the  one  of  your  schoolmates 
that  my  heart  always  warmed  to.  How  came 
Mrs.  Desmond  to  be  willing  to  leave  Paris  ? 
When  she  went  away,  she  said  it  was  for 
life." 


MERRY  WEATHER   SIGNS.  119 

"  Oh,  Helena  would  come  !  "  said  Hildegarde. 
"  She  told  me  about  it ;  they  must  have  had 
a  scene.  She  said  to  her  mother,  '  Mamma, 
I  am  an  American !  I  have  never  committed 
any  crime,  and  I  refuse  to  be  exiled  from  my 
native  country  any  longer.  If  you  will  come 
with  me,  it  will  be  much  the  pleasantest  thing ; 
if  not,  I  go  alone.'  Well,  it  was  not  the 
thing  to  say,  of  course,  but  — " 

"  I  am  not  sure  about  that ! "  said  Mrs.  Gra- 
hame,  flushing  slightly.  "  I  am  inclined  to  think 
Helena  was  perfectly  justified.  When  a  woman 
has  not  sense  enough  to  guide  her  daughter,  she 
must  submit  to  be  guided.  The  idea  of  keeping 
that  girl  over  there  five  years,  frittering  about 
the  continent ;  preposterous  !  My  sympathy  is 
entirely  with  Helena." 

Mrs.  Grahame  sat  very  erect,  and  her  eyes 
were  very  bright ;  then,  catching  Hildegarde' s 
eyes,  full  of  laughter,  she  relaxed  her  muscles, 
and  began  to  laugh  too. 

"  I  am  sorry,  dear,"  she  said.  "  I  never  could 
like  Mrs.  Desmond." 

"  I    should    think    not ! "    said    Hildegarde, 


120  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

promptly.  "I  should  be  under  the  painful 
necessity  of  disowning  you  if  you  did.  But  you 
love  Mrs.  Honiton,  Mammina !  " 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Honiton !  how  could  two  sisters 
be  so  different  ?  It  is  Margaret  Honiton  who 
should  be  Helena's  mother,  —  they  are  wonder- 
fully alike." 

"  Yes.  Helena  feels  that.  She  is  lovely  with 
her  mother,  —  firm,  but  devoted,  —  but  Aunt 
Margaret  is  the  one  of  the  world  to  her.  It  is 
a  terrible  thing  for  a  girl  to  have  an  incompetent 
mother ! " 

"  Yes,  darling,  it  is  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Gra- 
hame,  meekly.  "  I  feel  it  so  in  your  case.  No, 
don't  kill  me,  Hildegarde !  my  time  is  not  yet 
come.  Tell  me  more  about  Rose  and  her  hus- 
band. She  is  very  happy,  you  say  ?  " 

"  Happy  as  the  day  is  long.  I  told  you  I  did 
not  see  Doctor  Flower,  —  the  only  one  I  missed, 
really ;  he  was  in  Philadelphia.  But  their 
house  is  as  pretty  as  pretty ;  it  is  evident  that 
he  furnished  it,  —  you  know  what  taste  he  has  ; 
and  everywhere  roses,  roses  !  carved  and  painted 
and  embroidered,  —  it  is  really  the  Rose-bower, 


MERRY   WEATHER    SIGNS.  121 

as  he  calls  it.  Her  own  little  sitting-room,  up- 
stairs —  oh,  such  a  little  rosy-posy  nest !  rose- 
wood desk,  —  and  everything  soft  covered  with 
rose-flowered  chintz  —  curtains,  too,  —  and  the 
most  de-lightful  sofa  I  ever  did  see !  And  her 
little  work-table,  and  —  oh,  well,  Mammina,  I 
think,  after  all,  that  made  me  happier  than  any- 
thing,—  unless  it  was  the  sight  of  Nurse  Lucy's 
face  when  she  recognised  me !  But,  remember- 
ing all  that  Rose  suffered,  and  all  the  cramped, 
anxious  days  and  years,  and  then  seeing  her,  a 
rose  in  full  bloom,  in  her  own  pretty  house,  with 
such  signs  of  loving  care  all  about  her,  —  it  was 
good,  good ! " 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  "  said  Mrs.  Grahame,  heartily. 
"  I  am  sure  that  was  a  real  treat,  darling.  And 
Bubble  —  you  say  he  is  grown  such  a  fine  lad!  " 

"  Bubble  is  enchanting !  not  handsome  —  well, 
but  you  need  not  laugh,  Mammina,  for  he  is 
very  good  looking,  and  certainly  has  an  air  of 
distinction.  He  holds  his  head  so  well ;  and  he 
walks  well,  and,  altogether  —  oh,  I  am  proud 
of  Bubble.  And  Rose  says  that  Doctor  Flower 
is  sure  the  boy  has  a  career  before  him ;  he 


122  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

never  had  so  apt  a  pupil.  And  he  speaks  such 
beautiful  English,  Rose  says." 

"Rose  says!"  repeated  Mrs.  Grahame.  "I 
thought  you  had  a  good  little  talk  with  the  boy 
himself." 

"  Oh,  so  I  had,  but  he  would  not  talk  anything 
but  the  broadest  Yankee.  He  insisted  that  he  was 
precisely  the  same  freckled  boy  that  he  was  when 
I  first  saw  him ;  and  he  carried  on  in  the  most 
absurd  way.  He  was  almost  like  Gerald ;  dear 
Gerald !  I  didn't  see  any  of  the  Merry  weathers, 
Mamma ;  so  there  was  something  lacking,  after 
all." 

"  It  would  be  a  weary  world  if  there  were 
not,"  said  her  mother.  "  But  speaking  of  the 
Merryweathers  —  have  you  noticed,  Hilda  dear, 
whether  the  night  is  clear  ?  " 

"  Whether  the  night  is  clear,  Mammina  ?  No, 
I  did  not  look.  What  do  you  mean,  darling? 
Shall  I  go  to  the  door—  " 

"  No ;  not  to  the  door,"  said  Mrs.  Grahame. 
"  Go  to  the  window,  child ;  the  west  window, 
that  looks  across  the  hedge.  Tell  me  if  the 
stars  are  out." 


MERRY   WEATHER    SIGNS.  123 

Wondering  greatly  at  this  sudden  solicitude 
about  the  weather,  Hildegarde  crossed  the  room 
and  drew  the  curtain. 

"  Clear  as  a  bell,"  she  said.  "  Stars  all  out, 
and  wind,  —  oh,  oh,  Mammina  !  Why,  there  are 
lights  in  the  windows  of  Pumpkin  House ! 
Mamma,  they  have  come  !  " 

She  turned  upon  her  mother  with  eyes  alight 
with  happy  inquiry. 

"  They  have  come,"  Mrs.  Grahame  repeated. 
"  Some  of  them,  that  is.  Oh,  things  can  happen 
here  as  well  as  in  New  York,  mademoiselle ! 
They  came  yesterday,  —  Mrs.  Merryweather  and 
Kitty  and  - 

"  And  you  never  told  me !  "  cried  Hildegarde. 
"  And  you  have  let  me  talk  on  and  on  for  three, 
—  four  hours,  —  oh,  Mrs.  Grahame  !  " 

"  You  never  asked  me,"  replied  that  lady, 
demurely.  "  You  had  a  great  deal  to  tell,  and 
I  wanted  very  much  to  hear  it ;  perhaps,  too, 
I  did  not  want  to  have  your  mind  distracted 
until  I  had  had  my  turn.  Mrs.  Merryweather 
is  looking  very  well." 

"Oh,   the   dear!"  cried   Hildegarde.      "Oh, 


124  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Mammina,  do  you  think  I  might  go  over  ?  Do 
you  think  it  is  too  late  ?  It  is  only  half -past 
eight.  Don't  you  think  I  might  run  over  now  ?  " 

"  Hark ! "  said  Mrs.  Grahame,  raising  her 
hand.  "  What  is  that  ?" 

Hildegarde,  in  full  tide  of  excitement,  checked 
herself,  and  listened.  Under  the  window  some 
unseen  hand  swept  the  strings  of  a  guitar, 
lightly,  yet  firmly;  and  next  moment  a  voice 
broke  out,  singing  the  old  air  of  "  Gentle  Zi- 
tella." 

"  Under  thy  window, 
Maiden,  I  sing, 
Though  the  night's  chilly 
For  this  kind  of  thing. 
Weather  is  merry, 
Hearts  too  are  light ; 
Speak  to  thy  Jerry, 
Hilda  the  Bright !  " 

Hildegarde  threw  up  the  sash. 

"  Come  in,  Gerald  !  "  she  cried.  "  Oh,  you 
dear  boy,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  —  hear  you, 
rather  !  come  in,  quick !  " 

She  shut  the  window  hastily. 

"  Did  you  feel  the  air,  Mamma  ?     I  thought  if 


MERRY   WEATHER   SIGNS.  125 

I  opened  it  just  for  a  second,  —  the  room  seemed 
pretty  warm.  Sure  you  are  not  cold,  love  ?  " 

Mrs.  Grahame  was  quite  positive ;  but  Hilde- 
garde  must  feel  her  hands  to  make  assurance 
doubly  sure ;  must  tuck  a  shawl  round  her 
mother's  shoulders,  and  throw  an  encouraging 
glance  towards  the  fire,  before  she  turned  to  the 
door,  which  now  opened  to  admit  Mr.  Gerald 
Merryweather. 

"  You  dear  boy !  "  she  repeated,  going  to  meet 
him  with  outstretched  hand.  "  To  think  that 
you  have  been  here  two  days  without  my  seeing 
you.  Gerald,  how  you  have  grown  !  " 

" '  Great  weeds  do  grow  apace,'  "  said  the  tall 
lad,  looking  down  on  her.  "  I  forestall  the 
remark,  you  observe.  It  is  the  one  with  which 
I  am  commonly  greeted  by  my  affectionate 
family.  But  it's  awfully  good  to  see  you, 
Hilda.  I  say,  how  well  you're  looking !  " 

"  You,  too/'  said  Hilda.  "  And  they  are  all 
well  ?  and  all  here,  or  coming  ?  Oh,  sit  down 
and  tell  me  all  about  everything,  do !  " 

"  I  have  already  told  her,  Gerald,"  said  Mrs. 
Grahame ;  "  but  I  don't  think  she  paid  much 


126  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

attention ;  you  may  as  well  tell  her  over 
again." 

"  Well,  I  was  so  excited,  you  see  !  "  cried  the 
girl.  "  I  have  been  having  the  most  wonderful 
time  in  town ;  and  then  to  come  out  here  and 
find  you,  —  my  cup  is  rather  brimming  over, 
that's  all.  Now  tell,  Jerry." 

"  We  came,"  said  Gerald,  curling  up  his  long 
legs  on  the  hearth-rug ;  "  we  have  seen  —  sev- 
eral things  ;  we  expect  to  conquer  —  shortly  — 
the  dust,  and  to  get  the  house  to  rights.  Our 
holidays  —  Ferguson's  and  mine  —  began  on 
Saturday,  so  the  Mater  thought  we'd  better 
come  right  down  and  get  things  ready  for  the 
others.  Then  she  reflected  that  she  could  not 
trust  us ;  so  she  decided  to  come  herself ;  then 
she  further  reflected  that  she  could  not  possibly 
leave  the  kids  alone  with  the  Pater,  so  she  brought 
them  along.  Behold  us !  Bell  and  Toots  arrive 
next  week,  and  the  Codger  at  some  time  known 
to  himself.  He  is  in  Arizona,  or  somewhere  this 
side  of  it,  —  sent  for  to  inspect  a  mine,  and  see 
whether  it  is  a  good  place  for  planting  cab- 
bages." 


MERRY   WEATHER   SIGNS.  127 

"Gerald!"  said  Hildegarde. 

"  Honoured  miss  !  "  replied  the  boy.  "  I  may 
not  be  quite  accurate  in  the  details,  but  there  is 
a  mine,  I  do  assure  you." 

"  And  what  kind  of  winter  have  you  all  had  ? 
You  have  been  in  Boston  all  the  time,  —  that  is, 
your  mother  and  father  ?  " 

"  In  Boston,  yes.  The  winter  has  been  such 
as  might  have  been  expected,  far  from  the 
sun  which  etcetera.  Barring  the  fact  that  we 
have  all  existed  in  a  state  of  acute  anguish  at 
being  separated  from  you,  we  have  all  been 
exceedingly  well,  thank  you." 

"  And  how  do  you  and  Phil  like  college  ?  Is 
it  as  much  fun  as  you  thought  it  would  be  ? 
Do  you  like  your  rooms  ?  Are  you  doing  all 
right  in  your  Greek  ? " 

"Hilda,"  put  in  Mrs.  Grahame,  "do  let  the 
boy  draw  breath,  and  allow  yourself  to  do  so. 
Two  such  panting  young  creatures  I  have  sel- 
dom seen.  And  Gerald  is  not  going  away  on 
the  night  train." 

"  I  suppose  not !  "  said  Hildegarde.  "  But,  oh, 
it  does  seem  so  long  since  I  have  heard  anything 


128  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

about  him  and  Phil.  Bell,  you  see,  writes  the 
most  enchanting  letters,  but  they  are  mostly 
about  college  and  music,  —  her  college,  I  mean  ; 
and  she  tucks  in  a  little  postscript  to  say  that 
all  are  well  at  home,  and  that  is  all  the  news 
I  get." 

"  Which  accounts  for  your  pallid  and  emaci- 
ated appearance  !  "  said  Gerald. 

" '  Thy  cheek,  my  love,  of  late  a  living  rose, 
Which  could  the  bulbul  cheat  with  its  rich  hue, 
Looks  pale  — 

"  I  don't  remember  any  more.  I  learned  that 
in  the  Finden  book,  when  I  was  six  years  old." 

"Why,  Gerald,  did  you  have  the  Finden 
books,  too  ?  How  delightful !  Dear,  ridiculous 
books!  We  have  them  now.  I  still  think  the 
6  Diamond '  lady  the  most  beautiful  creature 
that  ever  lived,  —  and  simpered.  But  you  are 
not  telling  me  a  word  about  college ! " 

"  I  have  had  so  much  opportunity,  you  ob- 
serve ! "  said  Gerald,  appealing  to  Mrs.  Gra- 
hame.  "  My  natural  diffidence  has  been  allowed 
such  free  play  by  the  silent  and  unconversational 
attitude  of  your  daughter  —  " 


MERRY   WEATHER   SIGNS.  129 

Mrs.  Grahame  shook  her  head,  and  declared 
that  there  was  a  pair  of  them,  and  she  would 
have  nothing  to  say  on  either  side. 

Finally,  however,  boy  and  girl  settled  down 
into  an  amicable  and  more  or  less  coherent  ex- 
change of  information.  It  appeared  that  the 
boys  were  doing  well  in  college,  enjoying  the 
new  life  to  the  full,  and  keeping  well  in  their 
classes. 

"  Of  course  we  started  in  with  about  three 
times  as  much  sail  as  we  could  carry.  I  had 
five  courses,  and  Ferguson  seven.  But  some 
of  them  were  half  ones,  and  after  the  first  term 
we  began  to  see  where  we  were  a  bit,  —  and  to 
perceive  that  Roger  and  Pater  were  right.  We 
couldn't  see  it  at  first,  of  course,  being  such  as 


we  are." 


"  And  such  as  boys  have  been  since  the  begin- 
ning of  colleges ! "  said  Mrs.  Grahame. 

"  Dear  madam,  how  well  you  know !  Well, 
Greek  has  been  pretty  stiff,  but  still  we  peg  away, 
and  like  it  no  end.  Then  we  both  have  Chem. 
2,  —  that's  great  sport !  I  blew  myself  up  —  " 

"Gerald!" 


130  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  Fact,  I  assure  you !  Pounding  something  in 
a  mortar,  —  nice  little  glass  mortar,  you  know,  — 
pounding  away,  having  fine  sport ;  suddenly  I 
pounded  a  little  too  hard,  —  old  Comprehensive 
told  us  we  must  not  pound  hard,  —  and  away 
went  the  mortar,  and  away  went  I.  My  eye- 
brows are  only  just  growing  out ;  and  you  never 
noticed !  "  And  the  boy  looked  deeply  injured. 

"  My  dear  boy !  What  a  narrow  escape  !  Oh, 
your  mother  must  have  had  a  fright !  " 

"  Rather !  "  said  Gerald.  "  Roger,  you  know, 
had  that  bad  time  ten  years  ago,  and  she  thought 
I  had  done  something  of  that  sort,  and  would 
have  to  live  on  dark  room  and  excruciating  tor- 
tures for  months.  But  I  got  my  eyes  shut  all 
right,  you  see ;  so  it  only  burned  my  hyacin- 
thine  locks  a  bit,  and  took  off  my  eyebrows,  and 
spoiled  a  good  suit  of  clothes.  But  I  learned 
something,  and  now  I  pound  the  way  old  Comp 
tells  me  to." 

"  What  is  the  professor's  name  ? "  inquired 
Hildegarde. 

"Comprehensive?  Oh,  well,  his  real  name 
is  Worcester,  you  know.  Of  course  no  one 


MERRY   WEATHER   SIGNS.  131 

could  stand  that,  and  he  is  so  short  that  it 
would  never  do  to  call  him  '  Unabridged/  so 
I  suggested  '  Comprehensive/  which  is  the  size 
you  have  in  school,  you  know ;  and  the  fellows 
took  to  it,  and  now  he  is  called  that  altogether, 
or  6  Comp  '  for  short." 

"  I  see  !  By  the  way,  what  are  you  and  Phil 
called  ?  Anything  except  your  own  names,  I 
suppose ! " 

"  Pretty  much  !  "  Gerald  admitted.  "  Phil  is 
called  the  <  Holy  Poker '  —  don't  know  why,  I'm 
sure !  —  and  '  Thumbling,'  —  he  has  grown  about 
nine  feet,  Phil  has ;  really,  he  is  a  whole  head 
taller  than  I  am  !  " 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  Hildegarde,  innocently.  "  I 
had  no  idea  your  head  was  so  big  as  that,  Ger- 
ald !  of  course  I  knew  it  was  rather  —  " 

"  Mrs.  Grahame !  "  cried  Gerald,  in  a  tone  of 
anguish.  "  Will  you  speak  to  her,  please  ?  She 
is  trampling  all  over  my  delicate  sensibilities, 
and  talking  slang  besides  !  " 

"  Hildegarde,"  said  Mrs.  Grahame,  "  I  am 
surprised  at  you !  " 

"  Yes,  dear  madam !  "  said  Hildegarde,  meekly. 


132  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  You  didn't  hear  the  things  he  said.  Go  on 
with  the  names,  Gerald ! " 

"  They  call  him  '  Bottle  -  washer/  too,  and 
( Cappadocia.'  I  think  that  is  rather  the  fa- 
vourite name  for  Ferguson." 

"  Why  '  Cappadocia  ? '  "  asked  Hildegarde. 

"  Oh,  well,  there  isn't  really  much  reason,  — 
but  then,  it  doesn't  take  much.  They  call  me 
6  Capsicum,'  you  see,  and  we  are  twins,  and  '  Cap- 
padocia '  begins,  —  surely  I  need  explain  no  fur- 
ther even  to  a  person  of  limited  intelligence  ?  " 

"  Go  on,  Master  Impudence  !  Do  they  call 
you  '  Cayenne,'  too  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  And  '  Bricks,'  and  '  Mortar/ 
and  '  Flag/  —  short  for  <  Conflagration/  —  and 
everything  of  that  sort.  I  don't  care ;  I  don't 
mind  any  of  these ;  but  when  they  call  me 
'  Hamlet/  I  knock  them  down." 

66  Dear  Jerry !  Why  do  they  call  you  '  Ham- 
let?'" 

"Oh!  just  some  idiot  started  it,  —  you  can't 
tell  how  these  things  start.  One  comfort  is,  — 
I  called  him  the  'Grave-digger/  and  it  will 
stick  to  him  through  college,  for  he  looks  it 


MERRY   WEATHER   SIGNS.  133 

to  the  life.  And  the  joke  of  it,  —  I  don't 
know  whether  it's  safe  to  tell  you  the  joke  of 
it,  Hilda." 

"  Try  and  see  !  " 

"  Well,  the  real  joke  of  it  is  that  his  father  is 
an  undertaker,  and  I  never  knew  it. 

"  But  I  haven't  finished  about  the  courses !  " 
he  added,  hastily,  seeing  Hilda  look  serious.  "  I 
am  taking  French,  and  Ferguson  German.  We 
have  delightful  conversations  every  evening,  I 
speaking  my  language,  and  he  his.  You  shall 
have  a  specimen  when  you  see  us  togeth  — 
Hullo!  What's  that?" 

Mrs.  Grahame  uttered  a  slight  cry,  and  rose 
hastily  to  her  feet. 

"  I  —  I  don't  know,"  she  said.    "  I  thought  - 
I  surely  did  see  a  face  looking  in  at  the  window. 
Hark ! " 

They  listened,  and  heard  a  rustling  in  the 
great  linden  -  tree  outside.  Then  something 
gleamed  white  at  the  window, — a  face,  beyond 
all  doubt. 

"  Ferguson  !  "  said  Gerald.  "  If  I  don't  give 
it  to  him  for  startling  you,  Mrs.  Grahame ;  he 


134  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

shall  be  flayed,  I  assure  you!  Set  your  mind 
at  rest  on  that  point !  Flayed  an  inch  at  a 
time ! " 

"May  I  come  in?"  asked  Phil's  voice,  as  he 
swayed  back  and  forth  on  the  linden  branch. 

"  '  Begging  for  a  dole  of  crumbs, 
Little  Robin  Redbreast  comes  ! ' ' 

"  Quick  !  "  said  Hildegarde,  as  she  threw  up  the 
window  once  more.  "  When  will  you  boys  learn 
to  move  and  act  like  reasonable  mortals  ?  How 
are  you,  Phil?  I  am  delighted  to  see  you !  " 

Phil  wriggled  his  length  swiftly  into  the 
room,  and  closed  the  sash  with  a  single  quick 
movement.  Then,  after  shaking  hands  warmly 
with  his  two  friends,  he  fixed  a  withering  glance 
on  his  brother. 

"  How  about  that  box  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Now  may  Julius  Caesar  promote  you  to  a 
captaincy  in  the  Skidmore  Guards ! "  replied 
Gerald,  with  great  sweetness.  "  I  clean  forgot 
the  box,  sweet  chuck !  And  I  just  threatening 
to  flay  you !  Didst  open  it  with  thine  own  fairy 
paws,  beloved  ?  " 


MERRY   WEATHER   SIGNS.  135 

"  I  didst,  beloved !  And  I  intend  to  do  the 
same  by  thy  head,  at  a  convenient  season. 
He  promised  to  be  back  in  ten  minutes,"  Phil 
added,  turning  to  Mrs.  Grahame,  "to  open  a 
box  for  the  Mater.  I  was  putting  up  book- 
cases the  while.  It's  frightful,  the  way  books 
multiply  in  our  family..  I've  put  them  up  all 
along  all  the  up-stairs  passages  now,  and 
it  gives  us  a  little  breathing-space,  but  not 
enough." 

"  That  is  a  good  idea ! "  said  Mrs.  Grahame. 
"We  must  remember  that,  Hilda;  though, 
indeed,  there  is  still  plenty  of  space  in  these 


rooms." 


"  I  wish  there  were  in  ours,"  said  Phil. 
"  The  disadvantage  of  the  passage  bookcase 
is,  that  the  whole  family  stops  and  reads  as 
it  goes  along,  and  we  seldom  get  anywhere. 
Which  reminds  me !  I'm  afraid  I  must  go 
back,  Mrs.  Grahame,  and  take  this  wretched 
object  with  me.  It  is  nearly  ten  o'clock,  and 
my  Obadiah  should  have  been  tucked  up  in  his 
little  nest  some  time  ago." 

"  Your  Obadiah  will  inquire  into  the  condition 


136  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

of  your  little  nest  before  he  sleeps  !  "  said  Gerald, 
threateningly. 

"  But  remember  that  the  Mater  said  the 
next  time  we  scrapped  a  bedstead  to  pieces, 
we  must  sleep  in  the  pieces.  Come  along, 
Child  of  Doom !  " 

And  with  many  hearty  greetings,  and  prom- 
ises to  meet  the  next  day,  the  friends  separated, 
the  boys  saying  good-night,  and  clattering  off 
down  the  stairs  like  a  regiment  of  horse. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

CHRISTMASINGL 

THE  next  day  seemed  to  be  largely  spent  in 
running  to  and  fro  between  the  two  houses. 
Kitty  and  Willy  were  at  Braeside  before  break- 
fast, eager  to  embrace  their  dear  Mrs.  Grahame 
and  Hilda,  and  full  of  wonderful  tales  of  school 
and  play.  Then,  as  soon  as  Hildegarde  had  fin- 
ished breakfast,  she  must  go  back  with  them  to 
greet  Mrs.  Merry  weather,  and  tell  her  how  de- 
lighted she  was  at  their  coming,  and  hear  a  more 
detailed  account  of  the  girls'  movements.  Mrs. 
Merryweather  was  sitting  at  her  desk,  with  a  pile 
of  papers  before  her,  and  books  heaped  as  high 
as  her  head  on  every  side. 

"My  dear,"  she  said,  after  greeting  Hildegarde 
most  affectionately,  "  I  am  just  looking  for  the 
girls'  letter.  It  came  this  morning,  and  I  put 
it  somewhere,  —  in  quite  a  safe  place,  as  I  knew 


138  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

the  boys  would  want  to  see  it,  and  then  I  meant 
to  send  it  on  to  your  father,  —  I  mean  to  their 
father,  of  course.  Here  it  —  oh,  no  !  that  is  an 
old  one !  Now,  this  is  really  unfortunate,  for 
I  was  to  send -some  thing  to  Gertrude,  and  I  can- 
not remember  what  it  was.  Dear  me !  I  am 
really  too  —  would  you  mind  saying  over  a  few 
things,  Hildegarde,  that  she  would  be  likely  to 
want  ?  Perhaps  it  will  come  back  to  me ;  and 
I  can  keep  on  looking  all  the  while,  not  to  lose 
time." 

Much  amused,  Hildegarde  began  to  suggest, — 
"  Boots,  hat,  muff,  handkerchiefs,  gloves,"  —  but 
at  each  article  named  Mrs.  Merry  weather  shook 
her  head,  and  sighed  as  she  sorted  papers. 

"  No,  dear,  no  !  Thank  you  just  as  much ; 
but  it  was  none  of  those. '  This  only  shows,  dear 
Hildegarde,  the  dreadful  misfortune  of  being 
unmethodical.  I  have  no  manner  of  doubt  that 
I  have  wasted  at  least  ten  good  years  of  life  in 
looking  for  things.  My  sister-in-law,  now,  could 
find  a  needle  in  a  top  bureau  drawer  at  midnight, 
without  a  moment's  hesitation.  It  is  a  gift !  I 
trust  you  cultivate  —  now,  you  see,  I  may  spend 


CHRISTMASING.  139 

half  the  morning  hunting  for  this  letter,  when 
I  might  —  what  amuses  you,  my  dear?  " 

For  Hildegarde's  eyes  were  dancing,  and  her 
whole  face  eloquent  of  fun. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Merry  weather,  —  I  know  you  will 
excuse  me,  —  but  is  not  that  the  letter,  pinned 
to  your  dress  ?  It  looks  like  Gertrude's  hand- 
writing." 

Mrs.  Merryweather  looked  down,  and  gave 
a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  My  child,  your  coming  in  was  providential, 
nothing  less.  Of  course,  I  remember  now,  I 
pinned  it  there  for  fear  I  should  do  —  what 
I  thought  I  had  done.  Well,  well !  and  it  is  a 
Roman  sash  that  the  child  wants,  —  I  am  sure  I 
should  never  have  thought  of  that.  Ah,  dear ! 
I  do  miss  my  girls,  Hildegarde.  You  see,  they 
inherit  from  their  father  a  sense  of  order,  —  in 
a  measure,- — and  they  help  me  a  great  deal. 
Are  my  glasses  on  my  forehead,  dear  ?  Whereas 
Gerald  and  Phil  are  rather  like  me,  I  am  afraid. 
I  wonder  if  Gerald  has  found  his  waistcoat  yet  ? 
He  is  wearing  —  ah,  there  he  is  now  !  Gerald, 
you  are  really  an  object  for  a  circus,  my  son." 


140  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

Gerald  looked  down  thoughtfully  at  himself. 
He  was  attired  in  white  corduroy  knickerbock- 
ers, an  ancient  swallow-tail  coat  so  large  that 
it  hung  in  folds  upon  him,  and  a  red  velvet 
waistcoat  reaching  to  his  knee. 

"  I  hesitated  about  coming  in,"  he  said. 
"  Hildegarde  is  so  susceptible,  I  fear  the  impres- 
sion I  shall  make  upon  her  tender  heart.  The 
lily  is  painted,  the  fine  gold  is  gilded.  Hilda, 
confess  that  I  am  the  dream  of  your  existence." 

"  What  does  it  mean  ? "  asked  Hildegarde, 
laughing. 

"  Trunks  not  come  yet ;  not  mine,  at  least. 
Upset  a  bath-tub  over  my  only  suit  this  morn- 
ing, —  lo,  the  result !  Wouldst  not  that  I  were 
ever  habited  thus,  mirific  Mammy?  Consider 
the  beauty  of  your  offspring." 

He  seated  himself  on  his  mother's  desk,  draw- 
ing the  folds  of  the  dress-coat  about  him,  and 
beamed  upon  her. 

"If  you  would  send  him  away,  dear  Mrs. 
Merryweather,"  said  Hildegarde,  "  I  should  be  so 
glad  to  help  you  a  little  with  the  papers  and  books. 
I  have  a  whole  hour  to  spare,  —  do  let  me  help !  " 


CONSIDER    THE    BEAUTY    OF    YOUR    OFFSPRING.' 


CHRISTMASIXG.  141 

"My  dear,  I  should  be  only  too  thankful," 
said  Mrs.  Merryweather.  "  Jerry,  go  away,  and 
find  something  to  do !  You  might  unpack  the 
blankets,  like  a  dear." 

But  Gerald  declared  that  a  wet  blanket  was 
the  only  one  with  which  he  had  any  concern 
after  this  cruel  treatment,  and  retired  weeping 
bitterly,  wiping  his  eyes  with  a  long  coat-tail. 

Hildegarde  devoted  the  morning  to  helping 
her  friends,  and  when  she  went  home  at  noon 
the  rooms  wore  a  very  different  aspect.  The 
books  were  all  off  the  chairs  and  on  the  tables, 
or  in  the  bookcases. 

"Not  that  it  makes  any  permanent  differ- 
ence," said  Mrs.  Merryweather,  plaintively. 
"  They  will  put  books  on  the  chairs,  Hildegarde. 
It  is  against  the  rules,  —  but  it  is  their  nature. 
I  made  a  rhyme  about  it  once : 

"  <  The  book  is  on  the  chair, 
And  the  hat  is  on  the  stair, 
And  the  boots  are  anywhere, 
Children  mine  ! ' ' 

Hildegarde  especially  enjoyed  helping  to  ar- 
range the  girls'  room,  tacking  up  the  curtains. 


142  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

and  putting  fresh  flowers  (from  the  Roseholme 
greenhouse)  in  the  vases.  To-morrow  she  would 
see  those  dear  girls,  and  then  who  so  happy  as 
she ! 

And  to-morrow  came,  and  with  it  Bell  and 
Gertrude,  escorted  by  their  father.  All  the 
Merryweathers  were  now  here,  except  Roger. 
The  question  was  on  Hildegarde's  lips  several 
times,  "  When  will  he  come  ?  "  but  somehow  she 
waited  a  little  each  time,  and  the  moment 
passed,  till  she  heard  Mr.  Merryweather  say : 

"  A  letter  from  Roger,  Miranda  !  He  will  be 
here  next  week,  —  day  uncertain,  but  surely  in 
time  for  Christmas." 

A  chorus  of  joy  arose,  in  which  Hildegarde 
joined  heartily. 

"Think!"  said  Bell.  "We  have  not  seen 
Roger  since  the  summer ;  hardly  since  we  have 
seen  you,  Hildegarde.  Oh,  my  dear,  how  long 
it  seems  since  camp !  and  yet  when  you  look  at 
it  the  other  way,  it  might  be  yesterday.  Heigh, 
ho  !  whose  turn  is  it  to  get  supper  to-night  ?  and 
who  is  going  to  get  the  fish  for  the  chowder  ?" 

"Dear,  happy  days!"  said  Hildegarde,     "I 


CHRISTMASIXG.  143 

have  not  lost  a  minute  of  one  of  them,  Bell. 
If  I  should  wake  up  to-morrow  morning  and 
find  myself  at  camp,  I  should  not  be  in  the 
least  surprised,  but  should  just  '  put  the  kettle 
on  and  stand  by  to  go  about.' ' 

"  Dear  old  camp  motto !  "  said  Bell.  "  It 
makes  a  pretty  good  one  anywhere,  Hilda,  do 
you  know  ?  If  they  give  me  the  class  oration,  — 
the  girls  are  talking  about  it,  —  I  might  take 
that  for  my  text." 

"  Are  you  talking  camp  and  graduation,"  put 
in  Gertrude,  who  came  into  the  room  at  this 
moment,  "  when  Christmas  is  almost  here  ? 
Oh,  think  of  it,  and  we  have  not  planned  what 
we  are  going  to  do,  or  —  or  anything  !  " 

"  Speak  for  yourself,  Gertrude,"  laughed  Hilde- 
garde.  "  I  have  three  bureau  drawers  full  of 
things  ready,  and  I  ought  to  be  tying  up  a  box 
this  minute,  to  go  out  West." 

"  Missionary  box  ?  "  asked  Bell. 

"No,  —  at  least,  not  in  the  regular  way. 
But  there  are  some  distant  cousins  out  in  Col- 
orado,—  they  have  a  hard  time  to  get  along, 
and  there  are  a  great  many  of  them,  —  and 


144  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Mamma  and  I  always  send  them  a  box  at 
Christmas.  A  kind  of  grab-bag  box,  with 
clothes  and  whatever  we  can  think  of." 

"  My  dear,"  cried  Bell,  sitting  up  with  shin- 
ing eyes,  "  don't  you  want  some  contributions  ? 
Let  me  tell  you,  —  this  is  the  position  !  We  also 
have  such  cousins,  —  fourteen  in  number,  —  in 
Minnesota.  And  there  was  an  auction  at  school, 
and  I  got  all  kinds  of  odd  picknickles  and  buck- 
nickles,  thinking  they  would  do  for  the  box,  — 
and  I  returned  to  find  that  Mother  had  sent  it  off 
three  days  ago,  filled  to  overflowing.  You  see, 
the  boys  are  just  behind  ours  in  age  and  size,  so 
there  are  always  lots  of  jackets  (never  any 
trousers,  of  course),  and  she  thought  they 
would  be  needed  for  the  cold  weather,  —  and  I 
forgot  to  tell  her  about  my  purchases.  What 
do  you  say,  Hilda  ?  Oh,  come  up  into  my 
room,  and  see  some  of  the  things !  They  are 
rather  nice,  some  of  them,  and  others  just  funny. 
Come  on ! " 

Away  went  the  three  girls,  up  to  Bell's  sunny 
room,  where  the  trunks  stood  open,  with  trays 
of  hats  on  the  bed,  and  a  general  effect  of  "  just- 


CIIRISTMASING.  145 

arrive  d-and-haven't-had-time-to-get-settled  "  per- 
vading all.  Bell  cleared  a  chair  for  Hildegarde, 
and  bidding  Gertrude  "  perch  where  she  could/' 
began  to  pull  things  out  of  the  big,  brown  trunk, 
talking  as  she  went. 

"  You  see,  girls,  the  way  of  it  was  this.  There 
is  always  an  auction  at  the  end  of  the  year,  and 
generally  things  stay  over  for  that ;  but  this 
time  there  had  been  a  fire  in  the  town,  and  a 
good  many  poor  families  were  left  destitute. 
Mrs.  Tower  suggested  that,  perhaps,  we  might 
make  up  a  little  purse,  or  take  charge  of  one 
family  for  the  winter.  We  agreed  to  do  the 
latter,  and  made  up  a  committee  to  order  coal 
and  wood,  and  another  to  make  clothes  for  the 
children,  —  seven  children,  poor  little  things  ! 
and  the  father  so  badly  hurt  in  saving  the 
youngest  baby  that  he  will  not  be  able  to  work 
for  several  weeks.  Well,  I  was  on  the  commit- 
tee to  order  the  things ;  but  when  I  came  to 
collect  the  money,  some  of  the  girls,  who  wanted 
most  to  help,  were  very  hard  up,  myself  in- 
cluded. So  near  the  end  of  the  term,  you  see, 
and  we  had  been  buying  Christmas  things  and 


146  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

all.  So  I  said,  '  Suppose  we  have  an  auction  ! ' 
for  there  were  some  girls  —  not  many,  but  I 
suppose  there  are  a  few  everywhere  —  who 
didn't  care  a  bit  about  the  poor  family,  and  yet 
we  knew  they  had  money,  and  we  were  bound 
to  get  some  of  it.  I  had  the  sale  in  my  room. 
It  was  great  fun.  I  hung  out  a  red  flag,  and 
posted  flaming  notices  in  all  the  halls  and  corri- 
dors ;  and  we  had  a  great  crowd.  Me !  oh,  no, 
I  was  not  auctioneer !  I  could  not  possibly  talk 
fast  enough.  Caroline  Hazen  did  it  splendidly. 
Her  mother  was  Irish,  and  she  can  drop  into 
the  most  delicious  brogue  you  ever  heard,  and 
she  was  so  funny,  we  were  in  fits  of  laughter  all 
the  time.  We  made  twenty  dollars,  —  think  of 
it !  —  all  in  a  little  over  an  hour.  And  some  of 
these  things  I  bought  with  what  little  money  I 
had,  and  the  rest  were  just  left  over,  and  as  the 
girls  would  not  take  them  back,  I  brought  them 
along  for  the  box.  See  !  here  is  a  pair  of  knitted 
shoes,  —  really  perfectly  new.  Anna  Waring 
said  that  she  had  a  dear  aunt  who  sent  her  a 
pair  every  Christmas  and  every  birthday,  and 
she  has  ten  pair  now,  and  never  hopes  to  catch 


CHRISTMASING.  147 

up.      Three   pair  were  sold   beside  these ;    got 
them  for  ten  cents,  and   see  how  pretty  they 


are ! 


"  Why,  charming !  "  cried  Hildegarde.  "  Bell, 
why  don't  you  wear  these  yourself  ?  " 

"  I !  Perish  the  thought !  I  never  wear  any 
shoes  in  my  room,  Hilda ;  bare  feet  are  part  of 
my  creed." 

"  But  —  but  you  have  no  carpet  here,  dear," 
said  Hildegarde,  with  a  little  shiver.  "  And  it 
must  be  very  cold  —  " 

"Delightfully  cold!"  cried  Bell.  "I  know 
few  things  pleasanter  than  the  touch  of  a  good 
cold  floor  to  the  bare  feet  on  a  winter  morning." 

"  She  is  volcanic,  Hilda !  "  put  in  Gertrude. 
"  She  sleeps  under  a  sheet  all  winter,  and  never 
looks  at  a  blanket ;  it  is  true  !  " 

Bell  nodded  gaily  in  answer  to  Hildegarde' s 
horrified  look.  "  No  use,  dear !  I  am  hardened 
in  mind  as  well  as  in  body,  and  cannot  change 
my  ways.  Look  here  !  Perhaps  one  of  the  boys 
might  like  this  ?  " 

She  held  up  a  string  of  chenille  monkeys,  and 
danced  them  up  and  down. 


148  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

"  Of  course  he  would,"  said  Hildegarde. 
"And  what — 'what  is  that,  Bell  Merry- 
weather?" 

Bell  looked  rather  ruefully  at  the  object  she 
now  drew  from  the  trunk. 

"  Nobody  else  would  buy  it,"  she  said.  "  The 
girl  who  brought  it  down  is  new  and  shy,  and  — 
well,  somehow,  you  felt  that  she  wanted  to  help, 
and  had  nothing  else  to  bring.  I  was  so  sorry 
for  her,  —  I  gave  my  last  quarter  for  it." 

It  was  a  long  strip  of  coarse  twine  lace,  with 
a  yellow  ribbon  quilted  in  and  out  its  entire 
length.  One  of  those  objects  that  sometimes 
appear  at  fancy  fairs,  for  which  no  possible  use 
can  be  imagined. 

"It  is  queer,"  said  Bell.  "I  suppose  it  must 
have  been  meant  for  something ;  I  didn't  like  to 
ask  her  what." 

"  Oh,  but,  my  dear,  it  is  a  lovely  ribbon ! " 
said  Hildegarde.  "  Why  not  take  the  ribbon 
out,  and  make  bows  and  things  ?  I  am  sure 
you  must  want  ribbon  for  some  of  your  Christ- 
masings." 

Bell  confessed  that  she  might,  and  the  ribbon 


CHRISTMASING.  149 

was  carefully  laid  aside,  freed  from  its  snarl  of 
twine. 

"  Here,"  said  Bell,  diving  into  the  trunk  again, 
"  is  a  highly  interesting  article,  mesdames !  a 
pheasant,  you  see,  carved,  —  Swiss,  I  suppose,  - 
with  all  his  feathers  spread  out.  Now,  I  think 
I  did  pretty  well  to  bring  that  home  without 
breaking.  Is  there  a  boy  in  your  box,  Hilda  ? 
I  meant  this  for  a  boy." 

"  There  is,  indeed,  and  I  know  he  will  be 
enchanted  with  such  a  pretty  thing.  Oh,  and 
the  marbles !  Now,  Bell,  will  you  tell  me  what 
college  girls  do  with  marbles  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  said  Bell,  laughing.  «  She  —  Martha 
Sinclair  —  is  very  near-sighted,  poor  thing.  She 
thought  these  were  moth-balls.  She  brought 
a  lot  of  them  from  home,  and  put  them  up  with 
her  furs  this  spring,  and  was  horrified  to  find 
them  —  the  furs  —  all  moth  -  eaten  this  fall. 
Poor  Martha !  That,  Hildegarde,  is  the  sad 
tale  of  the  marbles.  They  are  very  good  ones ! 
I  should  not  dare  to  let  Willy  see  them,  —  here, 
put  them  in  your  pocket !  Here  are  assorted 
pen-handles,  —  went  in  one  lot,  —  forty  cents 


150  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

for  the  dozen  of  them.  Some  of  them  are  rather 
nice,  I  think." 

"  This  is  a  beauty !  "  cried  Gertrude.  "  This 
Scotch  plaid  one.  May  I  have  this,  Bell  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  dear !  Hilda  shall  have  the  pearl 
one,  —  there  !  This  is  the  prettiest,  Hilda  —  " 

"But  why  am  I  to  have  all  the  prettiest?" 
inquired  Hildegarde.  "  You  are  very  reckless, 
Bell." 

"  No,  my  love,  I  am  not,"  said  Bell.  "  Pen- 
handles  are,  generally  speaking,  a  drug  in  this 
family.  For  several  Christmases  Willy  —  dear 
child !  —  could  not  think  of  anything  else  to 
give  us,  so  we  had  pen-handles  all  round  —  how 
many  years,  Gertrude  ?  " 

"  Three,  I  think,"  said  Gertrude.  «  Then  some 
one  laughed,  and  hurt  his  dear  little  feelings, 
and  he  never  gave  us  any  more.  I  miss  the 
Christmas  pen-handle  myself,  for  I  always  get 
mine  nibbled  pretty  short  in  the  course  of  the 
fall  term.  It  is  the  only  way  I  can  possibly 
write  a  composition." 

"  And  is  your  next  composition  to  be  on  the 
'  Scottish  Chiefs  ? '  "  asked  Hildegarde.  "  Or  do 


CHRISTMASING.  151 

you  hope  to  cure  yourself  by  the  taste  of  varnish 
and  red  paint  ?  " 

"  Puppies ! "  cried  Bell,  emerging  once  more 
from  the  depths  of  the  trunk.  "  Five  china  pup- 
pies in  a  row.  And  thereby  hangs  a  tale." 

"  I  don't  see  a  sign  of  a  tail/'  said  Gertrude, 
inspecting  the  five  little  terriers,  all  sitting  up 
very  straight,  with  their  paws  exactly  on  a 
line. 

"  Spell  it  the  other  way,  miss ;  and  don't  for- 
get your  Shakespeare,"  said  her  sister. 

"  This  reminds  me  of  the  very  most  foolish 
charade  I  ever  heard.  We  were  playing  one 
evening  in  Martha  Sinclair's  room ;  and  Janet 
Armour  took  this  row  of  puppies  from  the  man- 
telpiece and  set  it  on  the  floor,  and  told  us  to 
look  at  it.  Then  she  kicked  it  over  with  her 
foot,  and  told  us  it  was  a  word  of  three  syl- 
lables, all  three  and  the  whole  word  given 
at  once.  See  if  you  can  guess,  Hildegarde  ? 
You  give  it  up  ?  Well,  it  is  too  silly  to  guess. 
6  Kick-a-row,'  do  you  see  ?  Cicero,  Gertrude, 
my  lamb.  I  explain  on  account  of  your  tender 
years." 


152  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  She  must  be  a  silly  girl,"  said  Gertrude. 
"  We  wouldn't  put  up  with  such  a  poor  charade 
as  that  here,  would  we,  Hilda  ?  " 

"  There  are  different  kinds  of  brains,"  said 
Bell,  laughing.  "  Janet  Armour  leads  the  whole 
college  in  mathematics,  and  is  head  of  the  bas- 
ket-ball team.  So  you  see,  dear,  talents  vary. 
Well,  Hildegarde,  I  am  afraid  there  is  nothing 
else  that  would  do ;  unless  you  would  like  this 
cologne-bottle  doll?  She  is  a  superior  doll." 

"  Very,"  said  Hildegarde.  "  And  you  know 
Kitty  would  be  enchanted  with  her.  No,  Bell, 
I  shall  take  nothing  else,  and  I  am  ever  so  much 
obliged  for  all  these  nice  things.  Now  you 
must  come  over  with  me  and  help  me  fasten  up 
the  box.  u,  too,  dear  Gertrude." 

The  thrd>  raced  across  the  lawn  and  through 
the  hedged  and  were  soon  in  Hildegarde's  room. 
Bell  looked  round  her  with  a  sigh,  half  admira- 
tion, half  regret. 

"  Hilda,  there  is  no  room  but  this  !  "  she  said. 
"  How  do  you  make  it  so  —  so  —  well,  your  own 
portrait  in  a  way  ?  If  I  were  to  be  shown  into 
this  room  in  the  furthest  corner  of  the  Soudan 


CHR1STMASING.  153 

I  should  say,  '  And  is  Hildegarde  in,  or  shall  I 
wait  for  her?'" 

Hildegarde  laughed,  and  looked  about  her, 
her  eyes  resting  lovingly  on  this  or  the  other 
treasure  of  picture  or  book. 

"  Dear  room  !  "  she  said.    "  I  am  glad  you  like 

it,  for  I  love  it  very  much.     And  if  it  looks  like 

j> 
me  — 

"  You  must  be  pretty  good-looking ! "  cried 
Gertrude.  "  Is  that  what  you  were  going  to 
say,  Hilda?" 

"  No,  you  absurd  child,  it  was  not.  But  — 
well,  girls,  of  course  it  is  different  when  people 
have  two  or  three  places,  in  town  and  country, 
and  move  about  as  you  do,  to  and  from  school 
and  college,  and  all  that.  But  this,  you  see,  is 
my  home,  my  only  home  and  abiding-place  ;  and 
so  my  own  things  grow  to  be  very  real  to  me, 
and  very  much  a  part  of  my  life.  I  suppose 
that  is  it.  I  know  —  you  will  understand  what 
I  mean,  Bell  —  whenever  I  go  out  of  this  room, 
it  seems  as  if  one  part  of  me  stayed  here,  and 
was  ready  to  greet  me  when  I  came  back.  But 
that  is  enough  about  me,"  she  added,  lightly. 


154  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  Here  is  the  box  !  Now  we  shall  see  how  nicely 
all  Bell's  prettinesses  will  fit  into  the  corners ! 

"  This  is  Mamma's  present  for  Cousin  Ursula. 
A  nice,  fat  down  puff,  for  her  feet  in  winter ;  it 
is  very  cold  there,  and  she  is  not  strong,  poor 
dear.  And  I  trimmed  this  hat  for  Mary,  the 
daughter.  Rather  pretty,  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  Rather  pretty  !  "  cried  both  girls.  "  Hilda, 
it  is  a  perfect  beauty  !  Oh,  how  did  you  learn  to 
do  these  things  ?  Will  you  trim  all  our  hats  for 
us,  for  the  rest  of  our  lives  ?  " 

"  I  should  be  delighted,"  said  Hildegarde, 
laughing.  "  I  learned  all  I  know  from  my 
mother.  She  is  clever,  if  you  will.  I  cannot 
compare  with  her  in  skill.  Yet  I  was  once 
offered  a  position  as  assistant  to  a  milliner. 
These  things  underneath  are  things  we  have 
worn,  but  they  are  all  good." 

"  This  has  never  been  worn  ! "  exclaimed  Bell, 
lifting  a  pretty  gray  silk  blouse,  trimmed  with 
knots  of  cherry-coloured  ribbon.  "  This  is  just 
out  of  the  box,  Hildegarde.  Oh,  what  a  pretty, 
dainty  thing !  " 

Hildegarde  laughed.     "  I  am  proud  of  that !  " 


CHRISTMASING.  155 

she  said.  "  I  made  that  out  of  an  old  under- 
skirt of  Mamma's.  Yes,  I  did !  "  as  the  girls 
exclaimed  with  one  accord.  "  It  was  good  silk  to 
begin  with,  you  see.  I  washed  it,  and  pressed  it, 
and  made  it  up  on  the  other  side ;  and  it  really 
does  look  very  nice,  I  think.  The  ribbon  is 
some  that  Mamma  had  had  put  away  ever  since 
the  last  time  they  wore  cherry  colour,  —  twenty- 
five  years,  she  says.  Lovely  ribbon  !  Well,  and 
I  knew  that  Mary,  the  daughter,  is  just  my  age, 
so  I  had  to  '  run  for  luck,'  and  make  it  to  fit  me. 
I  do  hope  she  will  like  it !  " 

"  Like  it !  "  exclaimed  Bell.  "  If  she  does  not 
like  it,  she  deserves  to  wear  brown  gingham  all 
her  life.  It  is  as  pretty  a  blouse  as  I  ever  saw." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  brown  gingham  ?  " 
asked  Hildegarde.  "  One  of  my  pet  dresses, 
a  year  or  two,  was  a  brown  gingham." 

"  Oh,  but  not  like  our  brown  gingham  !  "  said 
Bell.  "  You  see  —  well,  it  is  treasonable,  I 
know,  Gerty,  but  Hildegarde  is  almost  like  our- 
selves. You  see,  our  blessed  Mammy  (this  was 
long  ago,  when  Toots  was  a  baby,  and  the  boys 
still  in  kilts)  got  tired  of  all  our  clothes,  and 


156  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

felt  as  if  she  could  not  bear  to  think  about  them 
for  a  while.  So  she  got  a  whole  piece  of  brown 
check  gingham,  —  forty  mortal  yards,  — and  had 
it  all  made  up  into  clothes  for  us.  Oh,  dear ! 
Shall  I  ever  forget  those  clothes  ?  It  was  a 
small  check,  rather  coarse,  stout  gingham,  be- 
cause she  thought  that  would  wear  better  than 
the  Scotch.  It  did !  I  had  four  frocks  of  it, 
and  the  boys  each  had  three  kilt  suits,  and  even 
the  baby  wore  brown  slips.  You  cannot  remem- 
ber it,  Toots?" 

Gertrude  shook  her  head. 

"  I  remember  the  effect  on  the  family  mind," 
she  said,  laughing. 

"Yes,"  said  Bell.  "I  don't  know  whether 
you  have  ever  noticed,  Hildegarde,  that  none 
of  us  ever  wear  brown  ?  Well,  we  never  do ! 
Pater  will  never  see  it.  He  did  not  realise  for 
some  time  what  had  been  done.  But  one  day,  — 
oh,  you  ought  to  hear  the  Mammy  tell  about 
this !  I  can't  begin  to  make  it  as  funny  as  she 
does.  One  day  he  came  home,  and  the  twinnies 
were  playing  in  the  front  yard.  He  stood  and 
looked  at  them  for  a  while. 


CHRISTMASING.  157 

" '  Are  you  making  mud  pies,  boys  ?  ' 

"  '  No,  Papa ! ' 

"  '  Then  why  have  you  on  these  clothes  ? ' 

"  The  boys  didn't  know  much  about  their 
clothes ;  he  looked  at  them  a  little  more,  and 
then  he  came  into  the  house.  There  was  I,  in 
my  brown  gingham,  playing  with  my  doll. 

"  '  Great  Caesar ! '  says  Papa.  '  Here's  an- 
other !  Been  making  mud  pies,  Pussy  ? ' 

"  '  No,  Papa !     I  am  playing  with  my  dolly/ 

"  '  Do  you  get  dirty,  playing  with  your  dolly  ? ' 

"  '  Why,  no,  Papa  ! ' 

"  '  Then  why  do  you  wear  such  things  as 
this?' 

"  I  was  just  going  to  tell  him  that  '  this  '  was 
the  dress  I  was  wearing  every  day  and  all  day, 
when  dear  Mammy  came  out  of  the  sitting-room 
with  the  baby.  And,  Hilda,  the  baby  wore  a 
brown  gingham  slip,  and  Mammy  had  on  a  long, 
brown  gingham  apron. 

"  '  Napoleon  Bonaparte  ! '  said  Papa.  '  Here's 
two  more  of  'em.'  Then  he  sat  down  on  the 
stairs,  and  looked  from  one  to  the  other.  Then 
he  went  to  the  door  and  called  the  boys  ;  and  he 


158  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

took  us  all  into  the  sitting-room,  and  stood  us  in 
a  row,  and  sat  and  looked  at  us. 

" '  Miranda,'  he  said,  '  What  have  you  been 
doing  here  ? ' 

"  '  Doing,  my  dear  Miles  ?  '  said  Mamma. 
'  What  should  I  have  been  doing  ?  Dressing 
baby  after  her  afternoon  nap,  to  be  sure.' 

"  '  Dressing  her  ! '  says  Pater.  '  Dressing  her ! ' 
Then  he  broke  off,  Mammy  says,  and  put  his 
hand  to  his  forehead,  as  if  he  were  in  a  kind  of 
dream. 

" '  Miranda,'  he  said,  '  I  have  been  greatly 
occupied  for  the  last  few  weeks,  and  have  not 
fully  realised  what  was  going  on.  I  have  been 
dimly  aware  that,  when  I  came  home,  the  whole 
world  seemed  to  turn  brown  and  dingy.  At 
first  I  thought  it  was  the  weather;  then  I 
thought  it  was  the  condition  of  business ;  at 
last  I  began  to  think  that  my  sight  must  be 
failing,  and  cataracts  forming,  or  something  of 
the  kind,  so  that  I  could  see  nothing  without  a 
brownish  tinge  over  it.  Now,  I  —  I  realise 
what  the  matter  is ;  and  I  ask  what  —  what  is 
this  stuff  in  which  my  family  is  masquerading  ?  ' 


CHRISTMASING.  159 

"  '  Masquerading,  Miles  ?  I  don't  understand 
you.  This  is  brown  gingham,  a  most  excellent 
material,  inexpensive,  durable,  and  neat.  I 
bought  forty  yards  of  it,  so  that  the  children 
might  all  be  dressed  alike,  and  without  all  this 
fuss  and  expense  of  different  materials.  You 
know  you  said  we  must  economise  this  summer, 
andl- 

" '  Yes/  said  Pater.  <  Yes,  I  understand  now. 
Miranda,  you  are  a  good  woman,  but  you  have 
your  limitations.' 

"  He  would  not  say  another  word,  but  went  off 
into  the  garden  to  smoke.  We  forgot  all  about 
what  he  said,  all  but  Mammy,  and  she  thought 
he  would  get  used  to  the  brown  gingham  in 
time,  and,  anyhow,  she  had  meant  to  do  the  best, 
dear  darling. 

"  Hildegarde,  the  next  morning,  when  we  all 
came  to  dress,  our  clothes  were  gone." 

"  Gone !  "  repeated  Hildegarde. 

"  Gone,  —  vanished  ;  frock  and  kilt,  slip  and 
apron.  Not  an  atom  of  brown  gingham  was  to 
be  found  in  the  house.  And  the  rest  of  the  piece, 
which  Mammy  had  meant  to  make  into  a  gown 


160  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

for  herself,  was  gone,  too.  Mammy  looked 
everywhere,  but  in  a  few  minutes  she  understood 
how  it  was.  She  didn't  say  a  word,  but  just 
put  on  our  old  dresses,  such  as  were  left  of 
them.  They  were  pretty  well  outworn  and  out- 
grown, but  we  were  glad  to  get  into  them.  We 
hardly  knew  how  we  had  hated  the  brown  ging- 
ham ourselves,  till  we  got  out  of  it.  Well,  that 
day  there  came  from  one  of  the  big  shops  a  box 
of  clothes ;  an  enormous  box,  big  as  a  packing- 
case.  Oh !  dresses  and  dresses,  frocks  and  pina- 
fores and  kilts,  everything  you  can  imagine,  and 
all  in  the  brightest  colours,  —  pink  and  blue,  yel- 
low and  green,  —  a  perfect  flower-garden.  White 
ones,  too,  three  or  four  apiece ;  and  the  prettiest 
slips  for  Baby,  and  a  lovely  flowered  silk  for 
Mammy.  You  can  imagine  how  I  danced  with 
joy  ;  the  boys  were  delighted,  too,  and  as  for  old 
Nursey,  she  beamed  all  over  like  an  Irish  sun. 
When  Papa  came  home  that  afternoon,  we  were 
all  dressed  up,  the  boys  in  little  white  sailor 
suits,  I  in  a  ruffled  pink  frock,  and  Mammy 
and  Baby  most  lovely  in  white  and  flowers. 
He  looked  us  all  over  again.  '  Ha ! '  he  said, 


CHRISTMASING.  161 

'  once  more  I  have  a  family,  and  not  a  shoal  of 
mud-fish.  Thank  you,  my  dear.'  And  none 
of  us  has  ever  worn  brown  since  that  day,  Hilde- 
garde." 

"  Poor,  dear  Mrs.  Merry  weather !  "  cried  Hilde- 
garde,  laughing.  "  I  think  it  was  pretty  cruel, 
all  the  same.  And  —  did  you  ever  find  the 
brown  gingham  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  was  naughty ! "  cried  Gertrude. 
"  He  buried  it  all  in  the  back  garden.  That  was 
truly  naughty  of  Papa.  Mammy  found  them 
there  a  week  after,  when  she  was  setting  out  the 
asters.  They  were  all  neatly  laid  in  a  box,  and 
buried  quite  deep  down.  But  Mammy  took 
them  up,  and  sent  them  to  the  Orphans'  Home. 
Dear  Mammy !  " 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AN   EVENING   HOUR. 

"AND  what  shall  we  play  this  evening?" 
asked  Mrs.  Merry  weather. 

Hildegarde  and  her  mother  had  been  taking 
tea  at  Pumpkin  House.  Hugh  was  there,  too, 
and  now  Colonel  Ferrers  had  come  in,  so  the 
cheerful  party  was  nearly  complete. 

"  If  we  only  had  Roger  and  Papa !  "  sighed 
Bell.  "  Nothing  seems  just  right  without  the 
whole  clan  together." 

"  We  shall  have  them  soon,"  said  her  mother. 
"  Meanwhile  let  us  be  merry,  and  honour  their 
name.  It  is  too  soon  after  tea  for  charades,  I 
suppose.  Why  not  try  the  Alphabet  Stories  ?  " 

"  Alphabet  Stories  ? "  repeated  Hildegarde. 
"  Is  that  a  new  game  ?  I  don't  seem  to  remem- 
ber it." 

"  Brand-new !  "    cried    Gerald.     "  Mater    in- 


AN   EVENING   HOUR.  163 

vented  it  one  evening,  to  keep  us  quiet  when 
Pater  had  a  headache.  Jolly  good  game,  too. 
Tell  Hildegarde  one  or  two  of  yours,  Mater,  to 
show  how  it's  played." 

"  Let  me  see  !  Can "  I  remember  any  ?  Oh, 
yes,  here  is  one !  Listen,  Hilda,  and  you  will 
catch  the  idea  at  once.  This  is  called  '  The 
Actions  of  Alcibiades : '  Alcibiades,  brilliant, 
careless,  dashing,  engaging  fop,  guarded  Hellas 
in  jeopardy,  king-like  led  many  nobles  on. 
Pouncing  quite  rashly,  stole  (though  unduly, 
violently  wailing)  Xerxes' s  young  zebra. 

"  That  is  the  story.  You  see,  it  must  have 
twenty-six  words,  no  more,  no  less ;  each  word 
beginning  with  a  successive  letter  of  the  alpha- 
bet." 

"Oh!  delightful!  enchanting!"  cried  Hilde- 
garde. "  Mammina,  this  is  the  very  game  for 
you  and  me.  We  have  been  longing  for  a 
new  one,  ever  since  we  played  '  Encyclopaedics ' 
to  death.  Tell  us  another,  please,  Mrs.  Merry- 
weather  ! " 

"  Let  me  see  !  Oh,  but  they  are  not  all  mine  ! 
Bell  made  some  of  the  best  ones.  I  will  give 


164  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

you  another,  though.  This  is  '  A  Spanish  Ser- 
enade.' Andalusian  bowers,  castanets,  dances, 
enraptured  Figaro.  Gallant  hidalgo,  infuriately 
jealous,  kittenish  lady,  made  nocturnal  orisons. 
'  Peri !  Queen  !  Star  ! '  Then,  under  veiled  win- 
dows, Ximena  yielded.  Zounds !  " 

"  That  is  extremely  connotative  !  "  said  Mrs. 
Grahame.  "  This  really  is  an  excellent  game. 
Colonel  Ferrers,  shall  we  enter  the  list  ?  " 

"  Not  I,  my  dear  madam.  Curls  my  brain  up 
into  bow-knots,  I  assure  you.  Clever  people, 
word-plays,  —  that  sort  of  thing  always  floors  me 
completely.  Delightful,  you  understand  !  I  en- 
joy it  immensely,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  play 
the  listener.  Let  us  hear  some  more,  hey? 
6  Alcibiades  '  —  hum,  ha !  How  did  that  go  ? 
Quite  a  ring  to  it,  hey?" 

"  I  have  one,"  said  Bell ;  "  but  it  is  a  good 
deal  like  Mammy's  Spanish  one.  Still,  perhaps 
it  will  pass.  It  is  called  '  An  Elopement.'  Ar- 
bitrary barber,  charming  daughter,  engaging 
foreigner,  graceful,  handsome,  insinuating.  Jeal- 
ously kept  lady.  Midnight  nuptials ;  opposing 
parent.  Questing,  raged  savage  tonsor,  — '  Un- 


AN   EVENING   HOUR.  165 

grateful !  Vamosed  with  Xenophon  Young  ? 
Zooks ! ' " 

"  Oh,  but  that  is  a  beauty !  "  cried  Hildegarde. 
"  Where  do  you  get  your  X's  and  Z's  ?  I  cannot 
think  of  one." 

"There  aren't  many,"  said  Bell.  "And  I 
rather  fear  we  have  used  them  all  up.  Try, 
though,  Hilda,  if  you  can  make  one.  I  am  sure 
you  can." 

"  Give  me  a  few  minutes.  I  am  at  work,  — 
but,  oh,  I  must  have  pencil  and  paper.  How 
do  you  keep  them  in  order  in  your  head  ? " 

"  Habeo  !  Habeo  !  "  cried  Gerald,  who  had 
had  his  head  buried  in  a  sofa-pillow  for  the 
past  few  minutes.  "  Through  all  the  flash  of 
words  I  have  maintained  the  integrity  of  mine 
intellect."  (This  was  lofty!)  "Hear,  now,  <A 
Tale  of  Troy.'  Agamemnon  brutally  called 
Diomed  '  Elephant !  '  Fight !  Great  Hector, 
insolently  jocular,  kicked  Lacedaemonian  Mene- 
laus's  nose.  '  0  Phoebus  !  Quit ! '  roared  Sten- 
tor.  Turning,  Ulysses  valiantly  waded  Xan- 
thus.  <  Xield,  zealots  ! '  " 

A  general  acclamation  greeted  Gerald's  story 


166  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

as  the  best  yet.  But  Bell  looked  up  with  shin- 
ing eyes. 

"Strike,  but  hear  me!"  she  cried.  "Shall 
Smith  yield  to  Harvard  ?  Perish  the  thought ! 
Hear,  gentles  all,  the  tale  of  '  The  Light  of 
Persia.'  Antiochus,  braggart  chief,  devastated 
Ecbatana;  rinding  golden  hoards,  invested  Jeri- 
cho. Median  nobles,  overcome,  plead  quarter! 
Rescuing,  springs  through  underbrush,  victorious, 
wielding  Xerxes's  yataghan,  —  Zoroaster." 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  both  boys.  "  Good  for  you, 
Smith  College  !  That  is  a  buster !  " 

"  Boys  !  "  said  Mrs.  Merry  weather. 

"  Yes,  Mater !  We  did  not  mean  that.  We 
meant  6  that  is  an  exploder ! ' 

"  You  are  very  impertinent  boys  !  "  said  their 
'mother.  "  Shall  I  send  them  away,  Mrs.  Gra- 
hame?" 

"  Oh,  please  don't !  "  said  that  lady,  laughing. 
"  I  am  sure  we  have  not  had  all  the  stories  yet. 
Phil,  you  have  not  given  us  one." 

"  Mine  won't  come  right,"  said  Phil,  rather 
ruefully.  "  I  shall  have  to  cheat  on  my  X. 
Have  I  leave?" 


AN   EVENING   HOUR.  167 

"Well,  —  for  once,  perhaps,"  said  his  mother. 
"  It  must  not  be  a  precedent,  however.  Let  us 
hear !  " 

And  Phil  gave  what  he  called  "A  Mewl  of 
Music."  "  A  bandit  —  cheerful  dog !  —  enjoyed 
fiddling.  '  Go  home  !  '  insolently  jawing  ki-yied 
local  musician.  '  Nay !  Oh,  peace,  queasy  rustic ! 
Take  unappreciated  violin.  We  execrate  your 
zither ! ' " 

"  Yes  !  "  said  Mrs.  Merry  weather.  "  That  is 
imperfect,  but  the  first  part  is  good.  Next  ? " 

"  I  think,"  said  Hildegarde,  rather  timidly, 
"  I  think  I  have  one  ready.  I  hope  it  is  correct, 
-  shall  I  try  it  ?  It  is  '  The  Sea.'  Amid  briny, 
cavernous  depths,  entrancing  fishes  gambol,  hila- 
rious, iridescent  jewels.  Kittenish,  laughing  mer- 
maids nod ;  or  perhaps,  quietly  resting,  softly 
twine,  under  vanished  wave-worn  xebecs,  yellow 
zoophytes." 

"  My  dear  Hildegarde,  that  is  the  best  of 
all!  "  said  Mrs.  Merry  weather,  warmly.  "  That 
is  a  little  poem,  a  little  picture.  We  shall  have 
nothing  prettier  than  that  to-night,  and  as  we 
must  not  overdo  a  good  thing,  suppose  we  stop 


168  HILDEGARDE'S  HARVEST. 

the  stories  for  this  time,  and  try  something 
else.  Where  is  our  music,  girls  ?  " 

Bell  glanced  at  Hildegarde,  and  then  at  Colo- 
nel Ferrers.  She  had  heard  something  of  the 
passages  between  Jack  Ferrers  and  his  uncle, 
and  knew  that  classical  music  was  not  the  thing 
to  make  the  Colonel  enjoy  himself.  But  Hilde- 
garde nodded  brightly  in  return. 

"Let  us  sing!"  she  said.  "Let  us  all  have 
a  good  sing,  as  we  used  at  camp.  Where  is  the 
old  song-book  ?  " 

Bell,  comprehending,  fetched  an  ancient  vol- 
ume, rubbed  and  thumbed  into  a  comfortable 
mellowness. 

"  Here  it  is  !  "  she  said.  "  Come,  boys,  now 
for  a  chorus !  Sing  it  as  we  used  to  sing  it,  six- 
teen campers  strong,  etc." 

The  whole  family  clustered  round  the  piano, 
Kitty  and  Will  and  Hugh  close  beside  Bell, 
Hildegarde  and  Gertrude  looking  over  their 
shoulders,  while  Phil  and  Gerald  did  what  the 
latter  called  the  giraffe  act  in  the  background. 
And  then  they  sang !  One  song  after  another, 
each  choosing  in  turn,  the  chorus  rolling  out 


AX   EVENING   HOUR.  169 

nobly,  in  such  splendid  songs  as  "  October/' 
"A-hunting  we  will  go,"  and  "John  Peel." 
Then  Hildegarde  must  sing  "  Annie  Laurie " 
for  the  Colonel,  and  she  sang  it  in  a  way  that 
brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of  the  ladies,  and  made 
the  Colonel  himself  cough  a  good  deal,  and  go 
to  the  window  to  study  the  weather. 

"Ah,  Colonel  Ferrers,"  said  Hildegarde,  when 
the  sweet  notes  had  died  away,  and  it  was  time 
for  the  silence  to  be  broken,  "  where  is  the  lad 
who  should  play  that  for  us,  better  than  any 
human  voice  could  sing  it  ?  When  shall  we  have 
our  Jack  home  again  ?  " 

The  Colonel  hummed  and  hawed,  and  said  it 
was  absurd  to  suppose  that  any  fiddle,  however 
inoffensive,  —  and  he  acknowledged  that  his 
nephew's  fiddle  gave  as  little  offence  as  any  he 
had  ever  heard, —  still  it  was  absurd  to  think 
for  an  instant  that  it  could  be  compared  with 
the  sound  of  the  human  voice. 

"  Give  me  a  young  woman's  voice,  my  dear 
madam,"  he  said,  turning  to  Mrs.  Grahame ; 
"  give  me  that  organ,  singing  a  song  with  mel- 
ody and  feeling  in  it,  —  none  of  your  discordant 


170  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Dutch  cobwebs,  none  of  your  Italian  squalling, 
or  your  French  caterwauling,  but  a  song,  —  a 
thing  which  is  necessarily  in  the  English  lan- 
guage,—  and  I  ask  nothing  more,  —  except  that 
the  singer  be  young  and  good-looking." 

"  Are  you  so  very  reasonable,  I  wonder,  as 
you  think,  my  dear  Colonel  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Gra- 
hame,  laughing.  "  Surely  we  cannot  expect  that 
every  person  who  sings  shall  be  beautiful." 

"  Then  she  has  no  business  to  sing,  madam," 
said  the  Colonel.  "  My  opinion,  —  worth  noth- 
ing, I  am  aware,  from  a  musical  point  of  view. 
Now,  when  I  was  in  Washington  last  week,  — 
stayed  at  a  friend's  house, — delightful  people, 
—  very  good  to  the  Boy  here.  Weren't  they, 
Young  Sir?" 

"  They  were  fountains  in  the  valley ! "  said 
Hugh.  "  They  were  ducks,  —  but  they  quacked, 
instead  of  singing." 

"Precisely!      Exactly!      The   child   has   de- 
scribed it,  my  dear  madam.      There  were  two 
young  ladies  in  the  family,  —  charming  girls,  - 
when  they  kept  their  mouths  shut.    The  moment 
they  opened  them  to  sing,  —  a  pair  of  grinning 


AN   EVENING   HOUR.  171 

idols.  I  do  not  exaggerate,  Mrs.  Merry  weather, 
—  grinning  idols,  madam  !  " 

"  Really !  "  said  Mrs.  Merryweather.  "  How 
distressing ! " 

"  Distressing  ?  My  dear  lady,  it  was  excruci- 
ating !  They  opened  their  mouths  - 

"  But,  dear  Colonel  Ferrers !  "  cried  Hilde- 
garde.  "  They  had  to  open  their  mouths,  surely ! 
You  would  not  have  had  them  sing  with  closed 
lips?" 

"I  am  aware  that  they  had  to  open  their 
mouths,  my  child,  to  some  extent.  They  were 
not,  I  conceive,  forced  to  assume  the  aspect  of 
the  dentist's  chair.  They  opened  their  mouths, 
I  say,  —  red  gulfs,  in  which  every  molar  could 
be  counted,  —  and  they  shut  their  eyes.  They 
hunched  their  shoulders,  and  they  wriggled  their 
bodies.  Briefly,  such  an  exhibition  that  I  won- 
dered their  mother  did  not  shut  them  in  the  coal- 
cellar,  or  anywhere  else  where  they  might  escape 
being  seen.  Frightful,  I  assure  you !  frightful !  " 

Hildegarde  and  Bell  exchanged  glances;  the 
Colonel  was  on  his  high  horse,  and  riding  it  hard. 

"  And  what  did  they  sing  ?  "  asked  Bell. 


172  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"They  squalled,  my  dear  young  lady,  —  I 
refuse  to  call  such  performance  singing,  —  some 
Italian  macaroni  kind  of  stuff.  Macaroni  and 
soap-suds,  —  that  was  what  it  made  me  think 
of.  When  I  was  a  young  lad,  they  made  a 
song  about  the  Italian  opera,  —  new,  it  was 
then,  and  people  didn't  take  to  it  at  first,  —  how 
did  that  go,  now  ?  Hum,  ha !  I  ought  to  be 
able  to  remember  that." 

"  Was  it  '  Meess  Nancy,'  perhaps,  Colonel  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Mejry  weather.  "  I  think  I  can 
recall  that  for  you." 

"  My  dear  lady,  the  very  thing  !  <  Meess  Nancy 
said  unto  me '  —  if  you  would  be  so  obliging, 
Mrs.  Merry  weather." 

And  Mrs.  Merry  weather  sang,  to  the  funniest 
little  languishing  tune : 

"  Meess  Nancy  said  unto  me  one  day, 
'Vill  you  play  on  my  leetle  guitar?' 
Meess  Nancy  said  unto  me  one  day, 
« Vill  you  play  on  my  leetle  guitar? 
Vich  goes  "  tinky-tink-ting ! " 
Vich  goes  "  tanky-tank-tang  1  " 
Vich  goes  "ting," 
Vich  goes  "  tang," 
Vich  goes  "ta!"'" 


AN   EVENING   HOUR.  173 

"Exactly!"  said  the  Colonel.  "Precisely! 
tanky-tank-tang !  that  is  the  essence  of  half 
the  drawing-room  music  one  hears ;  and  the 
other  half  is  apt  to  be  the  kind  of  cacophonous 
folderol  that  my  nephew  Jack  tortures  the  in- 
offensive air  with.  By  the  way,  Hildegarde,  — 
hum,  ha  !  nothing  of  the  sort !  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Colonel  Ferrers !  "  said 
Hildegarde,  somewhat  perplexed,  as  was  no 
wonder. 

"  Nothing  of  the  slightest  consequence,"  said 
the  Colonel,  looking  slightly  confused.  "  My  ab- 
sent way,  you  know.  Oblige  us  with  another 
song,  will  you,  my  dear  ?  '  Mary  of  Argyle,'  if 
you  have  no  special  preference  for  anything  else. 
My  mother  was  fond  of  <  Mary  of  Argyle  ' ;  used 
to  sing  it  when  I  was  a  lad,  —  hum,  ha !  sev- 
eral years  ago." 

"In   one   moment,  Colonel   Ferrers.     I  just 
wanted  to  ask  you,  since  you  spoke  of  Jack,  - 
have  you  any  idea  when  we  shall  see  the  dear 
fellow  ?     Is   there   any   chance   of   his   getting 
home  in  time  for  Christmas  ?  " 

But  here  the  Colonel  became  quite  testy.     He 


174  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

vowed  that  his  nephew  Jack  was  the  most  irre- 
sponsible human  being  that  ever  lived,  with  the 
exception  of  his  father.  "  My  brother  Raymond 

—  Jack's  father,  you  are  aware,  Mrs.  Grahame 

—  never  knows,  it  is   my  belief,  whether  it  is 
time  to  get  up  or  to  go  to  bed.     As  to  eating 
his  meals  —  it  is  a  marvel  that  the  man  is  alive 
to-day.     Never  sits  down  at  a   Christian   table 
when  he  is  alone.     Housekeeper  has  to  follow 
him  round  with  plates  of  victuals,  and  put  them 
under  his  nose  wherever   he  happens  to  stand 
still.     Never   sits  down,  my  brother  Raymond. 
Like  Shelley  the  poet  in  that  respect  — 

"  Did  Shelley  never  sit  down  ?  "  asked  Bell, 
innocently.  "  I  never  heard  —  " 

"I  —  hum,  ha  !  —  alluded  to  the  other  pecu- 
liarity," said  the  Colonel.  "  Shelley  would  stand 
-  or  sit  —  for  hours,  I  have  been  told,  with  his 
dinner  under  his  nose,  entirely  unconscious  of 
it.  I  have  never  believed  the  story  that  he 
wrote  a  sonnet  with  a  stalk  of  asparagus  one 
day,  taking  it  for  a  pen.  Was  surprised,  you 
understand,  at  finding  nothing  on  the  paper. 
Ha!" 


AN   EVENING   HOUR.  175 

"Colonel  Ferrers,"  said  Hildegarde,  gravely, 
"it  is  my  belief  that  you  made  up  that  story 
this  very  instant." 

"  Quite  possible,  my  dear,"  said  the  Colonel, 
cheerfully.  "Absence  of  mind,  you  know  —  " 

"  Or  presence !  "  said  the  girl,  significantly. 
"  I  wonder  why  we  are  not  to  hear  about  our 
Jack." 

"  Possibly,  my  love,  because  I  do  not  intend 
to  tell  you,"  said  the  Colonel,  with  his  most 
beaming  smile.  "  Did  you  say  you  would  be  so 
very  obliging  as  to  sing  '  Mary  of  Argyle '  for 
me?" 

And  Hildegarde  sang. 


CHAPTER  X. 

DIE  EDLE  MUSICA. 

BELL  MERRYWEATHER  was  sitting  alone  in 
the  parlour  at  Braeside.  She  was  waiting  for 
Hildegarde  to  finish  some  piece  of  work  up-stairs 
before  going  for  a  twilight  walk.  So  waiting, 
she  naturally  drifted  to  the  piano,  and,  opening 
it,  began  to  play. 

Bell  might  love  her  Greek  and  her  botany, 
might  delight,  too,  in  rowing  and  riding,  and  in 
all  the  out-door  life  that  kept  her  strong,  young 
body  in  such  perfect  condition ;  but,  after  all, 
these  things  filled  the  second  and  third  place 
only  in  her  life ;  her  music  was  first,  once  and 
always.  All  through  school  and  college  she  had 
kept  it  up  steadily,  seeking  always  the  best 
instruction,  loving  always  the  best  music ;  till 
now,  at  eighteen,  she  was  at  once  mistress  and 
faithful  servant  of  her  beloved  art.  Hildegarde 
played  with  taste  and  feeling,  but  she  never 


DIE    EDLE    MUSICA. 


DIE   EDLE   MUSICA.  177 

cared  to  touch  the  piano  when  she  might  listen 
to  Bell  instead  ;  there  was  all  the  difference 
in  the  world,  and  she  knew  it  far  better  than 
modest  Bell  herself.  So  when  Hildegarde 
now,  up-stairs,  heard  the  firm,  light  touch  on 
the  keys  below,  she  nodded  to  herself,  well 
pleased,  and  went  on  with  her  work.  "  Such 
a  treat  for  Mammina  !  "  she  said.  "  And  I  do 
want  to  finish  this,  and  the  dear  girl  will  not 
know  whether  she  plays  five  minutes  or  an 
hour." 

Hildegarde  was  right.  Bell  played  on  and 
on,  one  lovely  thing  after  another ;  and  forgot 
her  friend  up-stairs,  and  her  walk,  and  every- 
thing else  in  the  world,  save  herself  and  die 
edle  Musica. 

Now,  it  happened  about  this  time,  —  or  it 
may  have  been  half  an  hour  after,  —  that  some 
one  else  stood  and  listened  to  the  music  that 
filled  the  early  December  twilight  with  warmth 
and  beauty  and  sweetness.  A  young  man  had 
come  running  lightly  up  the  steps  of  the  veranda, 
with  a  tread  that  spoke  familiarity,  and  eager- 
ness, too ;  had  hastened  towards  the  door,  but 


178  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

paused  there,  at  the  sound  of  the  piano.  A 
young  man,  not  more  than  twenty  at  the  most, 
very  tall,  with  a  loose-jointed  spring  to  his  gait, 
that  might  have  been  awkwardness  a  year  or 
two  ago,  but  sat  not  ungracefully  on  him  now. 
He  had  curly  brown  hair,  and  bright  blue  eyes, 
set  rather  far  apart  under  a  broad,  white  fore- 
head; not  a  handsome  face,  but  one  so  honest 
and  so  kindly  that  people  liked  to  look  at  it, 
and  felt  more  cheerful  for  doing  so. 

The  blue  eyes  wore  a  look  of  surprise  just 
now;  surprise  which  rapidly  deepened  into 
amazement. 

"  Oh,  I  say !  "  he  murmured.  "  That  can't  be, 
—  and  yet  it  must,  of  course.  How  on  earth 
has  she  learned  to  play  like  this  ?  "  He  listened 
again.  The  notes  of  Schumann's  "  Faschings- 
schwank"  sounded  full  and  clear.  The  bright 
scene  of  the  Vienna  carnival  rose  as  in  a  magic 
vision ;  the  flower-hung  balconies,  the  gardens 
and  fountains,  the  bands  of  dancers,  like  long 
garlands,  swinging  hand  in  hand  through  the 
white  streets.  The  young  man  saw  it  all, 
almost  as  clearly  as  his  bodily  eves  had  seen  it 


DIE   EDLE   MUSICA.  179 

a  year  before.  And  the  playing!  so  sure  and 
clear  and  brilliant,  so  full  of  fire  and  tender- 
ness— 

"  But  she  cannot  have  learned  all  this  in  two 
years  !  "  said  Jack  Ferrers.  "  It's  incredible  ! 
She  must  have  worked  at  nothing  else ;  and  she 
has  never  said  a  word  —  Ah  !  but,  my  dear  girl, 
you  must  have  the  violin  for  that !  " 

The  player  had  struck  the  opening  chords  of 
the  great  Mendelssohn  Concerto  for  piano  and 
violin. 

The  youth  lifted  something  that  he  had  laid 
down  on  the  veranda  seat,  —  an  oblong  black 
box ;  lifted  it  as  tenderly  as  a  mother  lifts  her 
sleeping  child.  Then  he  stepped  quietly  into  the 
twilight  hall. 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  Bell,  who  was  very 
near  the  gate  of  heaven  already,  heard  suddenly, 
as  it  seemed  to  her,  the  music  of  angels ;  a  tone 
mingling  with  her  own,  pure,  thrilling,  ecstatic ; 
lifting  her  on  wings  of  lofty  harmony,  up,  up,  - 
far  from  earth  and  its  uncertain  voices,  nearer 
and  ever  nearer  to  where  love  and  light  and 
music  were  blended  in  one  calm  blessedness.  It 


180  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

never  occurred  to  her  to  stop ;  hardly  even  to 
wonder  what  it  meant,  or  who  was  doing  her 
this  service  of  heavenly  comradeship.  She 
played  on  and  on,  as  she  had  never  played 
before ;  only  dreading  the  end,  when  the  spirit 
would  leave  her,  and  she  must  sink  to  earth 
again,  alone. 

When  the  end  did  come,  there  was  silence  in 
the  room.  It  was  nearly  dark.  Any  form  that 
she  should  see  on  turning  round  would  needs  be 
vague  and  shadowy,  yet  she  dreaded  to  turn ; 
and  she  found  herself  saying  aloud,  uncon- 
sciously : 

"  Oh  !     I  thought  I  was  in  heaven  ! " 

"  I  knew  I  was  !  "  said  Jack  Ferrers.  "  Oh, 
Hilda,  how  have  you  done  it?  How  was  it 
possible  for  you  to  do  it  ?  My  dear  —  " 

He  was  stepping  forward  eagerly;  but  two 
voices  cried  out  suddenly,  one  in  terror,  it 
seemed,  the  other,  —  was  it  joy  or  pain  ?  The 
girl  at  the  piano  turned  round ;  even  in  the 
dark,  Jack  knew  instantly  that  it  was  not  his 
cousin.  He  looked  helplessly  towards  the  door, 
and  there  stood  another  shadowy  figure ;  what 


DIE    EDLE   MUSICA.  181 

did  it  all  mean  ?  But  now,  after  that  pause  of 
an  instant,  this  second  figure  came  forward  with 
outstretched  arms. 

"My  dear,  dearest  old  Jack!  I  have  been 
listening;  I  could  not  speak  at  first.  Oh,  wel- 
come, dear  old  fellow !  Welcome  home  a  hun- 
dred thousand  times ! " 

Ah!  now  Jack  knew  where  he  was.  This 
was  the  welcome  he  had  thought  of,  dreamed 
of,  all  the  way  home  across  the  ocean.  This 
was  the  surprise  that  he  had  planned,  and  car- 
ried out  so  perfectly.  This  was  Hilda  herself, 
in  flesh  and  blood ;  his  best  friend,  better  than 
any  sister  could  be.  These  were  her  kind,  ten- 
der eyes,  this  was  her  sweet,  cordial  voice,  in 
which  you  felt  the  heart  beating  true  and  steady, 
—  all  was  just  as  he  had  pictured  it  in  many  a 
lonely  hour  during  the  past  two  years.  Only, — 
only,  who  was  it  he  had  gone  to  heaven  with  just 
now  ?  A  stranger  ! 

Before  his  bewildered  mind  could  grasp  any- 
thing more,  Hildegarde  had  put  out  her  hand, 
and  caught  the  silent  shape  that  was  flitting  past 
her  through  the  doorway. 


182  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

"  No  !  "  she  cried.  "  You  shall  not  go  !  It  is 
absurd  for  you  two  to  pretend  to  be  strangers, 
after  you  have  been  playing  together  like  that ; 
absurd,  and  you  both  know  it.  Bell,  of  course 
you  know  this  is  my  cousin  Jack,  whom  I  have 
so  wanted  you  to  meet.  Jack,  I  have  written 
you  of  my  friend  Isabel  Merryweather.  Oh,  oh, 
my  dears  !  It  was  so  beautiful !  So  beautiful ! 
And  I  am  so  happy,  —  I  really  think  I  am  going 
to  cry ! " 

"Oh,  don't!"  cried  Bell  and  Jack  together; 
and  the  sheer  terror  in  their  voices  made  Hilde- 
garde  laugh  instead. 

"  And  you  thought  it  was  I !  "  she  cried,  still 
a  little  hysterical.  "  Jack,  how  could  you  ?  I 
thought  better  of  you !  " 

"I  —  I  didn't  see  how  it  could  be,"  said  honest 
Jack.  "  I  didn't  see  how  you  could  possibly  have 
done  it  in  two  years,  or,  —  or  in  a  lifetime,  for 
that  matter;  but  how  could  I  suppose,  —  how 
could  I  know  —  " 

"  You  couldn't,  of  course.  Oh,  and  to  think 
of  all  the  delight  you  are  going  to  give  us,  the 
two  of  you !  Jack,  your  playing  is  —  I  can't 


DIE   EDLE    MUSICA.  183 

tell  you  what  it  is.  My  dear,  I  am  afraid  to 
light  the  lamp.  Shall  I  see  a  totally  different 
Jack  from  the  old  one  ?  You  have  learned  such 
an  infinity,  haven't  you  ?  " 

"  I  should  be  a  most  hopeless  muff  if  I  hadn't 
learned  something !  "  said  her  cousin.  "  But  you 
needn't  be  afraid  to  light  the  lamp,  Hilda.  You 
will  see  the  ostrich,  or  the  giraffe,  or  the  kanga- 
roo, whichever  you  prefer.  But  first  I  must 
thank  Miss  Merryweather  for  playing  so  delight 
fully.  You  have  played  with  the  violin  before, 
of  course  ?  I  felt  that  instantly." 

There  was  no  reply ;  for  Bell,  feeling  simply, 
desperately,  that  she  must  get  away,  must  re- 
lieve the  two  cousins  of  her  presence,  since  it 
could  not  by  any  possibility  be  welcome,  had 
seen  her  moment,  and  slipped  quietly  out  while 
Hildegarde  was  busy  with  the  lamp. 

The  light  sprang  up,  and  both  looked  eagerly 
round. 

«  Why,  she  is  gone  !  "  cried  Jack.  "  I  say ! 
And  I  never  thanked  her.  What  an  idiot  she 
must  think  me! " 

"She    thought    nothing  of    the    sort,"    said 


184  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Hildegarde.  "  She  is  the  most  modest,  un- 
selfish creature  in  the  world,  and  she  thought 
we  would  rather  be  without  her.  I  know 
her !  " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  she  was  right,"  yet  Hilde- 
garde fancied  a  shade  of  regret  in  his  hearty 
tone ;  "  anyhow,  she  is  a  brick,  isn't  she  ?  " 

"  How  would  you  define  a  brick  ? "  asked 
Hildegarde,  demurely. 

"  A  musician,"  said  Jack,  emphatically ;  "  and 
a  —  a  good  fel  —  Oh,  well,  you  know  what  I 
mean,  Hilda !  And  isn't  it  pretty  hard,  now, 
when  a  fellow  has  been  away  two  years,  that  he 
should  come  back  and  have  the  girl  of  his  heart 
begin  to  tease  him  within  five  minutes  ?  Oh,  I 
say,  Hilda,  how  well  you're  looking !  You  have 
grown  prettier ;  I  didn't  suppose  you  could 
grow  prettier.  Would  you  mind  shaking  hands 
again?" 

Hildegarde  held  out  her  hand  gladly,  and 
laughed  and  blushed  when  her  cousin  raised  it 
to  his  lips  in  the  graceful  European  fashion. 

"You  have  learned  something  besides  violin- 
playing,  Jack,"  she  said.  "  If  any  one  had  pro- 


DIE   EDLE   MUSICA.  185 

posed  your  kissing  hands  two  years  ago,  what 
would  you  have  done  ?  " 

"  Taken  to  the  woods,"  replied  Jack,  promptly. 
"But  —  well,  they  all  do  it  there,  of  course; 
and  I  saw  the  gnadige  Frau  —  Frau  J.  —  ex- 
pected it  when  I  went  to  dine  there,  so  —  so  I 
learned.  But  all  the  time,  Hilda,  I  thought 
I  was  only  learning  so  that  I  could  kiss  your 
mother's  hand,  —  and  yours  !  " 

"  Dear  lad  !  "  said  Hilda.  "  Mamma  will  be 
pleased ;  she  always  wishes  people  would  be 
'more  graceful  in  their  greetings.'  Can't  you 
hear  her  say  it  ?  But  why  do  we  stand  here, 
when  she  is  waiting  for  us  in  her  room  ?  She 
has  rheumatism  to-day,  so  I  would  not  let  her 
come  down,  poor  darling  ;  and  here  I  am  keep- 
ing you  all  to  myself,  like  the  highwayman  I 
am." 

"  Yes,  I  always  thought  you  were  cut  out  for 
a  highwayman,"  said  Jack.  "  Come  along,  then  ! 
I  have  a  thousand  things  to  tell  you  both." 

Hand  in  hand,  like  happy  children,  the  two 
ran  up-stairs.  Mrs.  Grahame  was  waiting  with 
open  arms.  Indeed,  she  had  been  the  first  to 


186  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

hear  the  notes  of  the  violin ;  and  her  cry  — 
"  Hilda  !  Jack  is  come  !  our  boy  is  come  ! "  — 
had  brought  Hildegarde  flying  from  the  re- 
cesses of  the  linen-closet.  Her  eyes  were  full 
of  happy  tears ;  and  when  Jack  bent  to  kiss 
her  hand,  she  folded  him  warmly  in  her  arms, 
and  pressed  more  than  one  kiss  on  his  broad 
forehead. 

"  My  boy !  "  she  said.  "  My  boy  has  come 
back  to  me !  Hilda,  it  is  your  brother ;  do  you 
understand  ?  It  is  as  if  my  little  son,  who  went 
away  so  long  ago,  had  been  sent  back  to  me." 

"  Yes,  Mother,"  said  Hildegarde,  softly.  "  I 
know ;  we  both  know,  Jack  and  I.  Dear  Mother, 
blessed  one !  let  the  tears  come  a  little ;  it  will 
do  you  good." 

They  were  silent  for  a  little.  The  two  young 
people  pressed  close  to  the  elder  woman,  who 
felt  the  years  surge  up  around  her  like  a  flood ; 
but  there  was  no  bitterness  in  the  waters,  only 
sweet  and  sacred  depths  of  love  and  memory. 
The  boy  and  girl,  filled  with  a  pas.sionate  long- 
ing to  cheer  and  comfort  her  whom  they  loved 
so  dearly,  felt  perhaps  more  pain  than  she  did, 


DIE    EDLE   MUSICA.  187 

for  they  were  too  young  to  have  seen  the  smile 
on  the  face  of  sorrow. 

But  now  Mrs.  Grahame  was  smiling  again. 

"  Dears  ! "  she  said.  "  Dear  children !  They 
are  such  happy  tears,  you  must  not  mind  them. 
And  now  they  are  all  gone,  and  that  is  enough 
about  me,  and  too  much.  Jack,  sit  down  on 
that  stool ;  draw  it  close,  so  that  I  can  see  you 
in  the  firelight.  So !  And  you  are  there, 
Hilda?" 

"  On  the  other  stool ! "  said  Hildegarde. 
"  Here  we  are,  love,  close  beside  you." 

"  That  is  good !  And  now,  Odysseus,  let  us 
hear!  Mr.  Ferrers  has  the  floor." 

"He  certainly  has  a  good  deal  of  it!"  said 
Jack,  looking  rather  ruefully  at  his  long  legs, 
which  did  extend  a  prodigious  distance  along 
the  hearth-rug. 

"What  do  you  think  of  my  having  grown 
two  whole  inches  since  I  went  away  ?  I  call  it 
a  shame  !  Uncle  Tom  measured  me  with  his 
stick  before  I  had  been  in  the  house  five  min- 
utes ;  six  feet  four !  It  is  disgraceful,  you 
know ! " 


188  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  Dear  Colonel  Ferrers !  "  cried  Hildegarde. 
"  Isn't  he  coming  soon,  to  tell  us  how  happy  he 
is  ?  Why,  Jack,  do  you  know,  he  was  so  funny 
about  you  last  night !  I  asked  when  you  were 
coming,  and  he  quite  growled,  the  dear,  and 
called  you  irresponsible,  and  wouldn't  tell  us  a 
thing." 

"  Of  course  he  wouldn't !  Spoil  my  surprise, 
that  I  had  planned  so  carefully  ?  It  is  well  he 
did  not !  But  he  told  me  about  it,  too,  —  about 
last  night,  I  mean.  He  said  you  would  persist 
in  asking  questions,  and  looking  straight  at  him 
as  you  asked  them,  so  that  his  only  refuge  was 
in  gruff  ness.  Yes,  Hilda,  he  is  coming  over 
after  tea,  —  I  may  stay  to  tea,  mayn't  I  ?  He 
—  I  thought  they  wouldn't  mind  being  alone 
for  a  bit,  —  Oh,  wait !  I  haven't  come  to  that 
yet.  Where  shall  I  begin  ?  Come  back  to 
Leipsic  with  me,  will  you  ?  " 

Both  ladies  signified  their  willingness  to  take 
the  voyage  at  once. 

"  I  have  spread  the  magic  carpet !  "  cried  Jack. 
"  Be  seated,  if  you  please !  Whisk !  Presto  ! 
Behold  us  in  Leipsic.  Mesdames,  let  me  have 


DIE   EDLE   MUSICA.  189 

the  honour  of  presenting  you  to  Herr  J, the 

greatest  living  violinist.  Herr  Professor,  these 
are  the  people  I  love  best  in  the  world,  except 
two.  Well,  you  see  it  is  very  simple,  after  all. 
The  Maestro  was  going  on  a  tour  in  Russia ; 
was  invited  to  play  before  the  Czar,  and  all 
kinds  of  things.  He  will  be  gone  all  winter ;  so 
he  said,  why  should  I  not  come  home  and  see 
my  father  and  uncle,  and  talk  over  plans  with 
them?  He  —  the  Maestro  —  wants  me  to  work  for 
the  Royal  Medal.  It's  only  given  out  once  in  three 
years,  and  it's  a  pretty  big  thing,  but  he  thinks 
I  would  better  try  for  it.  I  —  did  I  write  you 
about  the  scholarship  I  got  ?  No  ?  Well,  I 
think  I  did,  but  it  must  have  been  in  my  last 
letter,  and  Uncle  Tom  thinks  my  last  letters  did 
not  get  posted,  or  something.  Well,  yes ;  I  got 
a  pretty  good  scholarship,  enough  to  pay  my 
expenses  both  ways,  and  leave  me  a  hundred 
dollars  besides." 

"  Oh,  Jack  !  how  splendid  !  "  cried  Hildegarde, 
in  delight.  "  That  is  pretty  glorious,  I  do  think. 
Wasn't  Colonel  Ferrers  enchanted  ?  Oh !  and 
when  can  you  see  your  father  ?  Is  he  still 


190  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

in  Virginia?  Of  course  you  want  to  fly  to 
him." 

"  Not  in  the  least !  "  replied  Jack.  "  I  am 
coming  to  that  presently.  I  think  that  hundred 

• 

dollars  rather  went  to  my  head.  The  first  thing 
I  did  when  I  got  it  was  to  cable  to  my  father 
that  I  was  coming  on  the  Urania.  Then  I  shut 
myself  up  in  my  room  and  played  a  bit,  and 
then  I  turned  somersaults  till  my  head  was  like 
—  like  an  apple  dumpling ;  and  then  I  went 
shopping." 

"Shopping,  Jack?  I  can  hardly  fancy  you 
shopping." 

"  Well,  I  did !  I  got  a  pipe  for  my  father,  — 
oh,  a  beauty !  —  meerschaum,  of  course,  carved 
with  a  head  of  Schumann,  the  most  perfect  like- 
ness !  Hilda,  when  the  smoke  comes  out  of  it, 
you  expect  to  hear  it  sing  the  '  Davidsbiindler,' 
one  after  another.  Of  course  anybody  except 
Schumann  would  have  been  ridiculous,  but  it 
seems  to  suit  him. '  Then  for  Uncle  Tom  —  a 
pipe  is  horror  to  him,  of  course  —  I  got  a  walk- 
ing-stick, ebony,  with  no  end  of  a  Turk's  head 
on  it.  He  hates  the  Turks  so,  you  know.  I 


DIE   EDLE    MUSICA.  191 

knew  he  would  enjoy  squeezing  it,  and  rapping 
it  up  against  things,  and  he  does  like  it,  I  think. 
And  then-  "  the  boy  began  to  fumble  in  his 
pockets,  blushing  with  eagerness  —  "  Mrs.  Graj 
hame,  I  —  I  saw  this  in  a  shop,  and  —  it  made 
me  think  of  you.  Will  you  put  it  somewhere, 
please,  where  you  will  see  it  now  and  then,  and 
—  and  think  of  me  ?  " 

The  tiny  parcel  he  held  out  was  wrapped  in 
folds  of  soft,  foreign-looking  paper.  Mrs.  Gra- 
hame,  opening  it,  found  an  exquisite  little  copy 
of  the  Nuremburg  Madonna,  the  sweetest  and 
tenderest  figure  of  motherhood  and  gracious 
womanliness." 

"  My  dear  boy ! "  she  said,  much  moved. 
"  What  a  beautiful,  beautiful  thing !  Is  it 
really  mine  ?  How  can  I  thank  you 
enough?" 

"  So  glad  you  like  it !     Is  it  right,  Hilda  ?  " 

"  Quite  right,"  said  Hilda ;  and  they  nodded 
and  smiled  at  each  otjier,  while  the  mother  bent 
over  her  treasure,  absorbed  in  its  beauty. 

"  And  you,  Hilda !  "  said  Jack,  searching  his 
pockets  again.  "  Do  you  suppose  I  have  anything 


192  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

for  you  ?  Do  .you  really  suppose  I  had  time  to 
stop  and  think  about  you  ?  " 

The  boy  was  in  such  a  glow  of  happiness,  the 
joy  so  rippled  and  shone  from  him,  that  Hilde- 
garde  could  not  take  her  eyes  from  his  face. 

"  Dear  fellow ! "  she  said.  "As  if  I  needed 
anything  but  just  the  sight  of  you,  and  the  sound 
of  your  —  fiddle  !  And  yet,  —  oh,  Jack  !  Jack  ! 
How  could  you  ?  '  How  could  you  let  yourself 
do  it?" 

Jack  had  put  something  into  her  hands,  and 
was  now  leaning  back  in  perfect  content,  watch- 
ing her  face  in  turn,  and  delighted  with  every 
light  that  danced  over  it.  The  something  was 
a  bracelet ;  a  little,  shining  garland  of  stars,  each 
star  a  cluster  of  "  aquamarine  "  stones,  clear  as 
crystal,  with  the  faintest,  most  delicate  shade  of 
green,  hardly  seen  in  the  full  light.  Not  a  jewel 
of  great  value,  but  as  pretty  a  thing  as  ever  a 
girl  saw. 

"  Jack  !  "  sighed  Hilda  figain.  "  How  could 
you?  There  never  was  anything  so  beautiful 
in  the  world ;  that  is  confessed." 

"  And  the  clasp  is  the  moon,  you  see !  "  Jack 


DIE   EDLE   MUSICA.  193 

explained,  eagerly.  "I  thought  it  looked  like 
the  Moonlight  Sonata,  Hilda,  and  you  used  to 
like  me  to  play  it,  you  know ;  and  so  I  thought 
—  you  do  like  it  ?  Now  I  am  quite  happy  !  Fate 
has  nothing  better  for  me  than  this.  Except 
one  thing !  "  he  added,  turning  with  boyish  shy- 
ness from  Hilda's  warm,  almost  reproachful 
thanks,  —  she  was  hardly  reconciled  to  his  spend- 
ing his  hard-earned  money  on  trinkets  for  her,  yet 
she  was  genuinely  delighted  with  the  exquisite 
gift,  as  any  right-minded  girl  would  have  been. 

"  There  is  one  thing  more  !  "  said  Jack.  "  And 
I  think  I  am  going  to  have  that  now.  Hark ! 
Is  not  that  a  step  on  the  veranda  ?  May  he  — 
may  they  come  up  here,  dear  Mrs.  Grahame  ?  " 

Mrs.  Grahame  hesitated  a  moment,  glancing 
at  her  dainty  tea-gown,  and  then  around  at  the 
perfection  of  the  pleasant  sitting-room. 

"  Certainly !  "  she  said,  heartily.  "  If  you  do 
not  think  Colonel  Ferrers  will  mind,  —  such  an 
old  friend,  and  he  knows  I  am  not  well  to-day." 

Jack  and  Hilda  flew  down -stairs  as  fast  as 
they  had  flown  up ;  indeed,  Hilda  was  nearly 
overthrown  by  her  cousin's  impetuous  rush. 


194  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  I  haven't  told  you  yet !  "  he  cried.  "  Hilda, 
you  guess,  don't  you  ?  You  know  what  the  best 
of  all  is  to  be  ?  He  is  here  !  He  —  here  he  is !  " 

He  threw  open  the  door.  Colonel  Ferrers's 
stalwart  form  loomed  against  the  pale  evening 
sky,  and  behind  it  was  a  tall,  slender  figure, 
stooping  somewhat,  with  a  shrinking  air  like 
a  shy  boy. 

"  Hilda,  it  is  my  father ! "  cried  Jack,  now  at 
the  top  of  his  heaven,  and  "  Hilda,  my  dear, 
my  brother  Raymond !  "  cried  the  Colonel,  not 
a  whit  less  pleased.  Hilda  found  her  hand  taken 
between  two  slender,  white  hands,  that  trembled 
a  little,  as  they  drew  her  towards  the  light. 

"My  boy's  best  friend!"  said  Mr.  Ferrers; 
and  Hilda  thought  that  the  gentle  blue  eyes 
were  even  kinder  than  those  fierce  gray  ones 
of  the  Colonel's,  now  twinkling  with  tears,  which 
he  brushed  away  with  furious  impatience. 

"  My  boy's  kind  sister  and  helper  !  God  bless 
you,  my  dear !  I  owe  you  a  great  debt,  which 
only  love  can  repay.  And  now  take  me  to  your 
mother.  I  have  not  seen  her  for  many  a  long 
year," 


DIE   EDLE   MUSICA.  195 

Hildegarde  hardly  knew  how  they  all  got  up- 
stairs, she  was  so  flurried,  so  joyfully  shaken  and 
melted  and  confused.  But  it  was  only  a  moment 
before  the  tall  man  was  bending  over  her  mother's 
chair,  taking  her  hands  in  turn,  and  gazing  at 
her  wistfully,  tenderly. 

"  Mildred  Bond ! "  said  Raymond  Ferrers. 
"  Am  I  fifty  years  old,  or  fifteen,  Mildred  ? 
Where  are  the  years  gone,  my  child  ?  You 
are  utterly  unchanged." 

But  this  was  more  than  the  Colonel  could  bear. 

"  Raymond,  you  are  as  great  an  ass  as  ever!  " 
he  cried,  bringing  down  his  hand  with  formi- 
dable violence  on  the  slender,  stooping  shoulder. 
"  Jack,  what  did  I  tell  you  ?  I  said  he  was  a 
mixture  of  angel  and  idiot.  Look  at  him ! 
Hear  him !  and  contradict  me  if  you  dare." 
And  then,  as  his  brother  turned  and  laid  an  arm 
round  his  shoulder,  the  Colonel  fairly  broke  down, 
and  was  heard  to  mutter  behind  his  handkerchief 
that  the  world  consisted  principally  of  a  parcel 
of  fools,  and  that  he  was  the  biggest  of  them. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    BOYS. 

"  MAMMINA  !  " 

"  Yes,  Hilda !  " 

"Are  you  quite  sure  you  will  not  mind  my 
asking?" 

"  I  am  not  at  all  sure  !  Suppose  you  try  it, 
and  find  out." 

"  Well,  —  I  don't  believe  you  will  really  mind. 
But — was  not  Mr.  Raymond  Ferrers — very  fond 
of  you,  dear  ?  " 

Mrs.  Grahame  coloured  like  a  girl. 

"  Yes,  dear,  he  was.  He  was  —  I  am  afraid  — 
very  fond  of  me,  Hilda.  It  was  years  and  years 
ago,  of  course  ;  he  was  only  a  lad.  But,  —  well, 
it  happened  that  we  had  never  met  since,  you 
see ;  I  think  we  were  both  a  little  overcome,  for 
I,  too,  was  very  fond  of  him,  Hilda,  though  not 
in  the  way  he  wished.  Poor  Raymond !  " 

"  You  —  you  couldn't  care  for  him,  dear  ?  " 


THE    BOYS.  197 

"  My  child !  I  had  seen  your  father ;  how 
could  I  think  of  any  one  else  ?  But  Raymond 
did  not  know  that ;  and  —  and  it  was  hard  for 
him.  I  trust  I  did  not  appear  foolish,  Hilda  ?  " 

She  spoke  anxiously,  and  Hilda  laughed  out- 
right. 

"  Darling,  you  appeared  like  an  angel,  and 
were  perfectly  calm.  I  never  should  have 
guessed  it  from  you ;  but  —  he,  it  was  all  over 
him,  at  the  first  glance." 

"  Poor  Raymond !  "  said  Mrs.  Grahame  again, 
meditatively.  "  And  yet  he  was  very  happy  in 
his  marriage,  I  have  always  heard.  His  wife 
was  a  lovely  person,  and  sincerely  attached  to 
him.  But  —  I  suppose  the  seeing  me  brought 

* 

back  his  boyhood,  and  some  of  the  old  feeling, 
-we  are  singular  creatures,  Hilda.  Perhaps 
you  think  I  might  have  told  you  of  this  before, 
Hilda.  You  see,  I  never  thought  of  it  as  any- 
thing belonging  to  me,  dear." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Hilda.  « I  know  !  And  I 
should  not  have  asked  if  —  if  he  had  not  made 
it  so  very  obvious.  But,  oh,  how  charming,  — 
how  lovely  he  is!  And  how  beautiful  to  see 


198  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

him  with  Jack,  and  the  dear  Colonel  with  both 
of  them  !  My  mother,  do  you  know  that  we  have 
the  very  most  delightful  friends  in  the  habitable 
universe  ?  " 

"It  really  does  seem  so/'  said  her  mother. 
"  And  what  a  Christmas  we  shall  have,  with  so 
many  of  them  around  us !  Let  me  see  !  Mr. 
Merryweather  came  to-day.  Now  the  whole 
Smiling  Signal  Service,  as  absurd  Gerald  calls 
it,  is  here,  —  except  the  good  Roger." 

Except,  indeed !  Hildegarde's  heart  gave  a 
great  bound,  and  she  felt  the  colour  rushing  to 
cheek  and  forehead. 

"  We  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  Roger  ?  "  said 
Mrs.  Grahame.  "  Very  glad,  daughter  dear?" 

"  Very  glad  indeed,  dearest  mother ! "  said 
Hilda.  She  met  her  mother's  loving  glance 
bravely,  with  her  own  bright  smile ;  here,  the 
blushing  did  not  matter,  for  the  two  hearts, 
mother's  and  daughter's,  beat  in  such  true  time 
together  that  words  were  hardly  needed  to  carry 
the  swift  thought  from  mind  to  mind. 

There  was  a  moment's  pause ;  then  Mrs.  Gra- 
hame went  on. 


THE   BOYS.  199 

"And  are  they  not  planning  all  kinds  of 
merrymaking  for  Christmas  week  ?  Dear  me  ! 
Why,  it  is  this  very  coming  week,  Hilda !  Where 
has  the  month  gone?" 

"  Oh,  it  is  to  be  a  great  time ! "  said  Hilde- 
garde.  "  The  flower  party,  and  lots  of  peo- 
ple coming  down  from  town  for  it ;  and  a 
toboggan-party,  —  if  the  snow  will  only  come ! 
and  the  tree  at  Roseholme,  and  I  don't  know 
what  else.  Do  you  know,  I  almost  thought  the 
Colonel  and  Mr.  Merry  weather  would  quarrel 
about  the  tree ;  both  wanted  it  so  much.  And 
then  they  both  gave  up  at  the  same  minute, 
and  each  insisted  that  the  other  should  have 
it,  till  I  thought  they  would  quarrel  over  that. 
But  it  all  ended  most  happily.  Hugh,  of  course ! 
He  came  up  quietly,  and  held  out  two  straws ; 
and  they  drew,  and  neither  said  another  word. 
Oh,  Mother,  Hugh  is  so  happy  with  Jack!  I 
met  them  just  now  ;  his  little  face  was  shining 
like  a  star.  Jack  was  chattering  German  to 
him,  and  he  did  not  understand  a  word,  but 
that  made  no  difference  at  all.  And  dear  old 
Jack !  I  believe  he  would  have  liked  to  kiss 


200  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

every  stone  in  the  garden  wall  —  there !  he  is 
calling  me  now !  I  promised  to  go  for  a  walk 
when  my  work  was  done.  Are  you  sure  you 
don't  want  anything,  darling  ?  absolutely  sure  ? 
Then  good-bye  for  an  hour  !  " 

Hildegarde  ran  down,  and  found  Jack  pacing 
the  veranda  with  yard-long  strides. 

"  Do  you  remember/'  he  said,  abruptly,  "  the 
first  time  I  came  here,  Hilda?" 

"  Of  course  I  do !  "  said  Hilda. 

"  How  I  fell  over  a  chair,  and  then  knocked 
down  a  hanging-basket?  Hilda,  I  do  believe 
I  should  have  made  away  with  myself  that  night, 
if  there  had  been  any  weapons  about.  I  was 
simply  full  of  rage  and  misery  ;  I  hated  every- 
body, myself  included ;  and  it  did  seem  to  me 
as  if  you  might  let  me  alone,  and  not  insist 
upon  making  me  talk.  I  couldn't  talk,  you 
know." 

"  No,  dear,  you  certainly  could  not ;  but  you 
had  to  learn.  And  you  are  not  sorry  now, 
Jack?" 

"  Sorry !  well,  rather  not !  Fancy,  if  I  had 
stayed  the  hateful  noodle  that  I  was  that  night ! 


THE   BOYS.  201 

Fact  is,  I  was  brimful  of  my  own  self  ;  that  was 
the  trouble  with  me.  Ah  —  who  are  all  these 
people  Uncle  Tom  has  been  telling  me  about, 
next  door,  in  the  yellow  house  ?  I  didn't  bar- 
gain for  strangers,  Hilda ! "  And  my  lord 
looked  slightly  injured. 

"  No,  dear  !  "  said  Hildegarde.  "  Of  course 
we  ought  to  have  thought  of  that,  and  have 
prevented  their  coming  here.  We  don't  own 
the  house,  it  is  true,  but  we  might  have  turned 
the  hose  on  them,  or  put  rat-poison  about,  or 
kept  them  off  in  some  way." 

"  Oh,  there  you  go  ! "  cried  Jack.  "  I  say !  I 
haven't  been  teased  for  two  years.  I  forget 
what  it's  like.  But  seriously,  are  they  really 
nice  ?  Do  you  care  for  them  ?  I  —  I  really  am 
jealous,  Hilda;  you  needn't  laugh.  I  thought 
I  was  going  to  have  you  all  to  myself,  and  now 
here  are  a  lot  of  people,  —  with  unreasonable 
names,  it  seems  to  me,  —  and  Uncle  Tom  says 
they  are  your  most  intimate  friends,  and  that 
he  loves  them  all  like  brothers." 

"  That  was  one  of  them  you  met  last  night," 
said  Hildegarde,  demurely. 


202  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  Oh,  I  say !  I  was  going  to  ask  you,  —  was 
it,  though  ?  of  course ;  I  didn't  notice  her  name 
much,  but  I  remember  now.  Well,  Hilda,  she  is 
a  musician,  and  of  course  I'm  glad  you  have  had 
such  a  friend  as  that.  I  liked  her  face,  too,  —  " 

"  You  couldn't  see  her  face !  " 

"  Oh,  I  saw  enough.  I  saw  her  eyes  just  for 
a  minute,  and  I  know  what  she's  like,  anyhow ; 
didn't  I  play  the  Mendelssohn  Concerto  with  her  ? 
So  that's  all  right,  and  I  mean  to  get  her  to  play 
with  me  a  lot,  if  she  will.  I  like  to  play  with 
the  piano,  only  you  so  seldom  find  any  one  — 
any  pianist  —  who  understands  the  violin ;  they 
are  generally  thinking  about  their  own  playing. 
But  —  well,  what  was  I  saying  ?  It  is  so  jolly 
to  be  talking  one's  own  language  again,  and 
talking  to  you.  I  just  want  to  go  on  and  on, 
whether  I  say  anything  or  not." 

"  So  I  infer !  "  said  Hildegarde. 

"  Oh,  I  say !  "  cried  Jack  again.  "  But  — 
well,  to  go  back  to  these  people,  —  there  are 
a  lot  of  them,  aren't  there  ?  A  lot  of  fellows, 
or  something  ?  " 

"There     are!"     said     Hildegarde,    gravely 


THE   BOYS.  203 

"  Here   are   two   of   them   coming   now,   Jack. . 
These   are   the  twins,  Phil  and  Gerald;    they 
are  particularly  nice  fellows,  and  I  want  you 
to  meet  them." 

"  Look  here,  Hilda !  I  can't,  you  know.  I'm 
going  to  cut  across  the  field  here.  I  didn't 
expect  to  see  anybody  this  first  morning.  You 
won't  mind  if  I  — ' 

"  I  shall  mind  very  much  indeed  !  "  said  Hilde- 
garde,  with  decision.  "  Jack,  you  must  not  be 
absurd!  You  are  behaving  like  a  child. 

"  Oh,  good  -  morning,  Phil !  Good  -morning, 
Gerald !  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you !  This  is  my 
cousin,  John  Ferrers,  who  came  last  night,  and 
is  staying  at  Roseholme.  Jack,  these  are  my 
neighbours,  Philip  and  Gerald  Merry  weather." 

The  three  bowed  with  mutual  distrust. 

"  Glad  to  see  you !  "  said  Phil,  in  a  tone  which 
contradicted  his  words. 

"Fine  morning!"  said  Gerald.  "  You  had  a 
pretty  rough  passage,  I  ho  —  I'm  afraid !  " 

"  Thanks !  "  said  Jack,  with  a  detestable  little 
drawl,  which  Hildegarde  had  never  heard  before. 
"  I  had  an  excellent  passage." 


204  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

The  three  drew  back  and  looked  at  each  other, 
so  exactly  like  strange  dogs  that  the  tails  only 
were  wanting,  it  seemed  to  Hildegarde.  She  had 
difficulty  in  keeping  her  countenance.  "  What 
a  comfort,"  she  thought,  "  if  I  could  only  shake 
them  all,  and  tell  them  to  behave  themselves !  " 
But  outwardly  she  was  calm  and  smiling,  look- 
ing from  one  scowling  face  to  the  other  as  if  all 
were  wreathed  in  smiles. 

"  And  whither  are  you  bound,  boys  ? "  she 
asked.  "  And  what  frolic  is  there  on  hand  for 
to-day  ?  If  the  snow  would  only  come !  I  do 
want  some  tobogganing." 

"  There  is  good  skating  on  Jimmy's  Pond  !  " 
said  Gerald.  "  We  were  just  coming  to  see  if 
you  would  go  this  afternoon,  Hilda." 

At  the  familiar  name,  Jack  Ferrers  glared  so 
ferociously  that  Hildegarde  almost  expected  to 
hear  him  bark,  and  to  see  him  spring  at  the 
other  lad's  throat.  Gerald  perceived  the  impres- 
sion, and  hastened  in  pure  malice  to  deepen  it. 

"  I  have  been  counting  on  a  skate  with  you, 
Hilda ;  you  remember  the  last  we  had  together  ? 
I  never  shall  forget  it !  " 


THE  BOYS.  205 

Now  Hildegarde  had  never  skated  with  Gerald 
in  her  life,  and  she  had  no  idea  of  putting  up 
with  this  kind  of  thing. 

"  I  shall  be  delighted  to  come  !  "  she  said,  with 
a  little  ring  of  steel  in  her  voice  that  all  three 
lads  knew  very  well ;  "if  you  can  find  a  pair  of 
skates  for  my  cousin.  I  know  you  have  a  whole 
closet  full  of  them.  You  would  like  very  much 
to  come,  Jack  ?  Very  well,  then,  that  is  settled  ! 
We  will  be  ready  at  three  o'clock.  Good-morn- 
ing, boys  !  Bell  and  Gertrude  will  come,  too,  of 


course ! : 


And  with  a  quick,  decided  nod  she  walked  on, 
Jack  following  after,  after  a  defiant  bow  which 
was  returned  with  interest. 

The  cousins  walked  on  in  silence  for  a  few 
steps ;  then  — 

"  I  don't  think  you  really  misunderstood  what 
I  said,  Hildegarde  !  "  said  Jack,  coldly.  "  I  did 
not  say  that  I  should  like  to  go  skating.  I  said 
I  should  be  unable  to  go.  Of  course  it  is  of  no 
consequence." 

"Of  none  in  the  world!"  said  Hildegarde, 
turning  upon  him  with  gleaming  eyes.  "The 


206  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

absurd  behaviour  of  three  ridiculous  boys, — 
Jack !  How  could  you  ?  I  was  so  mortified, 
-  so  ashamed  of  you  all !  All !  But  you  are 
my  own;  I  am  responsible  for  your  behaviour. 
I  never-  '  but  here  she  caught  a  glimpse  of 
Jack's  face,  and  suddenly  burst  into  a  fit  of 
laughter. 

"  Oh,  it  was  so  funny !  Jack,  none  of  you 
will  ever  know  how  funny  it  was.  I  am  very 
angry,  but  I  —  cannot  —  help  laughing." 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  amused  !  "  said  Jack  Fer- 
rers, stiffly.  "  It  was  worth  while  to  come  home 
for  that." 

"  Jack  !  I  —  I  won't  laugh  any  more  —  if  I 
can  help  it !  Oh,  dear !  If  you  had  only 


seen  —  " 


But  Hildegarde  saw  that  her  cousin  was  really 
hurt.  Instantly  she  controlled  her  laughter,  and 
laid  her  hand  quietly  on  his  arm. 

"  Dear  lad,"  she  said,  "  you  are  not  really 
angry,  any  more  than  I  was.  Dear  Jack,  think 
about  it  a  little !  " 

They  walked  on  in  silence.  Jack  was  still 
smarting  under  a  sense  of  injury ;  yet  the  steady, 


THE   BOYS.  207 

friendly  hand  on  his  arm  seemed  to  smooth  down 
his  ruffled  feelings,  whether  he  would  or  no. 

"  You  know  how  it  is,"  he  said,  presently, 
speaking  in  a  more  natural  voice.  "  I  have  been 
thinking  so  long  about  the  home-coming!  I 
thought  it  was  going  to  be  —  just  the  same. 
I  thought  I  should  have  you  all  to  myself ; 
and  now  —  ' 

"Jack,  dear,"  said  Hildegarde,  quietly,  "are 
you  thinking  of  falling  in  love  with  me,  by  any 
chance?" 

Jack  looked  down  at  her  with  startled  eyes. 

"Why  — no!  I  wasn't,  Hilda;  but  I  will,  if 
you  want  me  to.  I  —  what  makes  you  say  that  ? 
I  thought  we  were  brother  and  sister." 

"  I  thought  so,  too,"  said  Hildegarde,  smiling. 
"  But  if  my  brother  is  going  to  show  his  teeth 
and  growl  at  all  the  other  dogs  —  I  mean  boys 
-he  meets,  I  don't  think  I  shall  find  it  com- 
fortable. There  was  a  dog  in  a  manger  once ; 
perhaps  you  have  heard  of  him." 

Jack  winced,  but  owned  he  had. 

"And  —  and  even  if  you  were  not  my 
brother,"  Hildegarde  went  on,  "the  idea  of 


208  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

being  jealous  of  the  twins  is  so  funny  that  — 
well,  when  you  know  them,  Jack,  you  will 
laugh  as  much  as  I  did.  They  are  not  that 
kind  of  boy,  at  all.  No  boys  were  ever  less 
so." 

"  That  red-haired  fellow,"  said  Jack,  still  dis- 
trustful ;  "  what  was  he  saying  about  skating 
with  you  before  ?  I  thought  he  sounded  de- 
cidedly spoony,  Hilda.  I  won't  be  disagreeable 
any  more,  but  I  say  this  seriously." 

"  Gerald !  naughty,  naughty  Gerald !  that  was 
so  like  him !  He  is  quick  as  a  flash,  Jack,  and 
he  said  that  just  to  torment  you.  I  have  never 
skated  with  him  in  my  life ;  I  never  knew  them 
till  this  last  summer.  Oh,  he  is  such  a  funny 
boy !  Come  on,  and  I  will  tell  you  some  of  his 
pranks  as  we  go  along !  " 

Gerald  and  Philip  Merryweather  walked  home 
in  moody  silence.  They  came  upon  a  loose 
stone,  and  kicked  it  along  before  them  with 
savage  and  purposeful  kicks.  Neither  men- 
tioned the  fact  of  the  stone's  representing  any 
particular  person,  but  when  either  made  a  spe- 


THE   BOYS.  209 

cially  successful  kick,  he  looked  at  the  other 
for  sympathy,  and  found  it  in  a  grim  nod  and 
chuckle.  Only  once  did  they  break  silence. 

"  Poor  Codger !  "  said  Gerald. 

"  H'm  !  "  growled  Philip,  assenting. 

"  Know  when  he's  coming  ?  " 

"  No !  Don't  suppose  it  will  make  any  differ- 
ence, though." 

"  S'pose  not !  " 

"H'm!" 

«  H'm ! " 

Reaching  the  house,  they  sat  down  on  the 
steps  and  pitched  gravel  stones  in  gloomy  rivalry. 
So  sitting,  it  chanced  that  Bell  came  upon  them  ; 
Bell,  with  a  face  more  than  commonly  bright 
(though  she  was  always  one  of  the  most  cheer- 
ful of  mortals),  with  her  hands  full  of  ground 
pine,  fresh  from  a  walk  in  the  woods,  humming 
a  fragment  of  the  Mendelssohn  Concerto. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  my  boys  ? "  she 
demanded,  promptly. 

"  Nothing  ! "  responded  the  twins,  with  alac- 
rity. And  they  lowered  like  toppling  thunder- 
clouds. 


210  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  Then  tell  me  all  about  it !  "  said  Sister  Bell, 
sitting  down  on  the  step,  and  taking  a  hand  of 
each. 

"  What  happened  to  my  twinnies  ?  Did  some 
one  throw  away  their  tadpoles,  or  did  the  dog 
eat  their  molasses  candy?" 

This  allusion  to  early  misfortunes  could  gener- 
ally bring  a  smile,  but  this  time  it  failed,  and 
Bell  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in  genuine 
concern. 

"Phil!  Jerry!  What  is  it?"  she  asked 
again.  "  Oh,  there  has  been  no  bad  news, 
boys  ?  Roger !  —  " 

Gerald  groaned. 

"  Roger !  "  he  said.  "  That's  just  it,  Bell ! 
No,  nothing  of  the  kind  you  mean.  He's  well, 
poor  dear  old  Codger.  Better  than  he  will  be, 
when  he  hears  what  is  going  on." 

"  What  is  going  on  ?  Come,  boys,  I  really 
must  know." 

"We  met  Hilda  just  now,"  said  Gerald. 
"  Her  cousin's  come ;  kind  of  fiddler-chap  from 
Germany.  I'm  afraid  it's  all  up  with  the 
Codger,  Bell." 


THE    BOYS.  211 

"Indeed!"  said  Bell,  quietly.  "And  what 
makes  you  think  that,  Jerry?" 

"Oh,  we  met  them  just  now!  He  —  he's 
about  nine  feet  tall,  to  begin  with." 

"  That  is  a  beginning !  Where  does  he  expect 
to  end  ?  But  I  have  seen  Mr.  Ferrers,  Jerry. 
I  saw  him  last  night." 

"  You  did  ?    Why  didn't  you  tell  a  fellow  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  —  I  —  hardly  know  !  "  said  downright 
Bell,  unused  to  even  the  whitest  fib.  She  really 
could  not,  perhaps,  have  put  into  words  the  feel- 
ing that  had  kept  her  silent  about  the  scene  of 
the  night  before. 

"  But  that  is  no  matter ! "  she  went  on. 
"What  else  is  the  matter  with  him,  besides 
height  ?  He  can't  help  that,  you  know." 

"I  don't  suppose  he  can.  But  he  can  help 
making  up  to  Hilda,  Bell,  and  he'd  better !  " 
savagely.  "  Only  it's  too  late  now,  I  sup- 
pose !  "  despondently.  "  Why  on  earth  the  fel- 
low couldn't  stay  and  fiddle  over  there,  where 
he's  wanted,  —  don't  admire  their  taste,  by  the 
way !  —  instead  of  coming  over  here  to  spoil 
everything,  is  more  than  /  know ! " 


212  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"Horrid  shame!"  murmured  Phil,  taking 
careful  aim  with  a  pebble  at  an  innocent  cat 
that  was  crossing  the  lawn. 

Bell  struck  his  hand  up. 

"  I  won't  have  the  cats  teased,  Phil !  And  as 
for  all  this  nonsense  —  " 

"  It  isn't  nonsense ! "  cried  both  boys,  ear- 
nestly. 

"  I  tell  you  we  met  them  just  now,"  Gerald 
went  on,  "  and  when  he  saw  us,  he  looked  black 
as  thunder,  and  had  hardly  manners  to  speak  to 
us.  Perfectly  odious  ;  wasn't  he,  Ferguson  ? " 

"  Absolutely  !  "  echoed  Phil. 

"  And  you  were  very  cordial  to  him,  of 
course  ? "  said  Bell.  "  You  let  him  see  that 
you  were  glad  to  meet  him,  and  that  as  Hilda's 
warm  friends  you  were  anxious  to  welcome  her 
cousin  cordially,  and  to  show  him  all  the  cour- 
tesy you  could  ?  " 

The  twins  looked  at  each  other.  Bell  had  an 
extraordinary  way  of  putting  things  sometimes. 

"  We  didn't  do  anything  of  the  sort !  "  said 
Phil,  with  an  attempt  at  bluster. 

"  Because  if  you  did  not,"  his  sister  went  on, 


THE   BOYS.  213 

"  I  am  afraid  you  must  have  seemed  very  rude, 
my  children.  Rude  and  silly  !  " 

"  I  wouldn't  call  names,  Tintinnabula !  "  said 
Gerald,  turning  red. 

"  Sorry  to  be  obliged  to,"  retorted  his  sister, 
in  perfect  good  humour.  "  But  if  you  looked  at 
Mr.  Ferrers  as  you  are  looking  now,  there  really 
can  be  no  doubt  about  the  matter.  Now  listen, 
boys  !  I  know  —  Hilda  has  told  me  —  a  great 
deal  about  this  Mr.  Jack  Ferrers.  Hilda  loves 
him  dearly,  as  dearly  as  if  he  were  her  own 
brother,  and  in  exactly  the  same  way.  You 
need  not  shake  your  heads  and  try  to  look  wise, 
my  dears,  because  you  are  not  wise !  You  are 
two  very  foolish  boys,  who  are  trying  to  run 
your  heads  against  a  stone  wall  when  there  is 
no  wall  there.  That  is  the  state  of  the  case 
about  Mr.  Ferrers.  I  know  Hildegarde  pretty 
well,  and  I  am  sure  of  what  I  am  saying.  You 
need  have  no  fear  of  him.  As  for  Roger,  —  well, 
I  don't  think  you  need  have  any  fear  for  Roger 
either." 

"  Has    he  —  has    she  —  do   you    think    they 


are  —  " 


214  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  Hush !  "  cried  Bell,  putting  a  hand  over  the 
mouth  of  each.  "  I  don't  think  anything !  At 
least  —  well,  that  isn't  true,  of  course ;  but  it 
does  no  good  to  talk  about  these  things,  dear  boys. 
I  do  not  think  Hilda  and  Roger  are  —  are  en- 
gaged." Bell  dropped  her  voice  to  a  whisper. 
"  But  I  feel  quite  sure  they  will  be  some  day, 
when  the  time  comes.  I  think  they  under- 
stand each  other  very  well.  Roger  will  be  here 
soon ;  suppose  you  leave  it  all  to  him,  Phil  and 
Jerry,  and  don't  worry  about  it.  But  there  is  one 
thing  you  can  do,  and  it  should  be  done  soon." 

"  What  ?  "  cried  both  boys,  eagerly. 

"  Put  on  your  good  clothes,  and  your  good 
manners,  and  go  to  call  at  Roseholme." 

"  We'll  be  shot  if  we  will !  "  cried  the  twins. 

"  Be  just  as  nice  as  you  know  how  to  be  to 
Mr.  Jack  Ferrers.  He  —  he  is  a  remarkable 
person,  I  have  reason  to  think.  You  see,"  she 
spoke  rather  hastily,  "  Hilda  has  told  me  so 
much  about  him.  And  I  —  well,  I  heard  him 
play  last  night,  and  he  is  a  very  wonderful  per- 
former, boys.  You  never,  in  your  little  lives, 
heard  anything  like  his  playing.  He  is  too 


THE   BOYS.  215 

much  in  love  with  his  art  to  think  of  any  such 
nonsense  as  has  been  troubling,  your  silly  heads ; 
you  will  understand  that,  the  moment  you  hear 
him." 

Gerald  made  a  feeble  protest  to  the  effect  that 
he  hated  fiddling,  but  there  was  little  hope  in 
his  tone.  And  he  was  promptly  reminded  of 
his  having  spent  his  last  fifty  cents  the  winter 
before  on  a  ticket  for  Sarasate's  concert,  and 
saying  that  it  was  the  best  investment  he  ever 
made. 

The  boys  knew  that  their  cause  was  lost ;  and 
when  Bell  added,  as  a  clincher,  "  Ask  Mammy, 
and  see  what  she  says,"  they  retired  from  the 
unequal  contest. 

"  Oh,  we  know  what  Mammy  will  say ! 
Don't  hit  us  when  we  are  down,  Bell.  We'll 
go,  and  make  asses  of  ourselves  as  well  as  we 
know  how." 

"  Oh,  not  that,  dears,  I  entreat !  "  cried  Bell ; 
and  then  ran  swiftly  into  the  house,  laughing. 

The  twins  resumed  their  occupation  of  pitch- 
ing gravel  stones,  but  a  change  had  come  over 
their  spirits.  Phil  was  actually  whistling,  and 


216  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Gerald  hummed  a   bass  with   perfect  cheerful- 
ness.    The  cat  came  back  across  the  lawn,  and 
they  threw  stones  before  her  nose  and  behind 
her  tail,  avoiding  contact  with  her  person  (for 
she  was  a  beloved  cat,  in  hours  of  joy),  and  con- 
tenting themselves  with  seeing  her  skip  hither 
and  thither  in  uninjured  surprise. 
"  Philly ! " 
"  Yes,  Jerry  !  " 

"  Us  feels  a  lot  better,  don't  us,  Philly  ?" 
"  H'm  ! "  said  Phil,  and  the  sound  was  now 
one  of  content  and  peace. 

"  She's  not  a  bad  sort,  the  Tintinnabula !  " 
Gerald  went  on,  meditatively.  "  She  doesn't 
harry  a  fellow,  as  some  fellows'  sisters  do.  She 
pokes  you  up  and  smooths  you  down  at  the  same 
time,  somehow.  That's  the  way  a  girl  ought 
to  be  —  my  opinion.  Come  along,  Ferguson,  and 
let's  do  something  to  celebrate !  " 

"  All  right !"  said  Phil.    «  What  shall  we  do  ?" 
"  Oh,  any  old  thing  !     Come  along !  " 
And  they  went  and  wrestled  in  the  conserva- 
tory, and   broke   three  flower-pots,  and   had  a 
delightful  morning. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
JIMMY'S  POND. 

So  it  came  to  pass  that,  as  Jack  Ferrers  was 
strolling  about  the  garden  with  Hugh  after  din- 
ner, talking  about  old  times,  and  pausing  at 
every  other  step  to  greet  some  favourite  shrub 
or  stick  or  stone,  —  it  came  to  pass  that  he  heard 
steps  at  the  gate,  and,  turning,  saw  the  Messrs. 
Merryweather,  holding  themselves  very  straight, 
and  looking  very  sheepish.  They  had  compro- 
mised with  Bell  on  skating  dress,  instead  of  the 
detested  "  good  clothes,"  and  Gerald  carried  sev- 
eral pairs  of  skates  in  his  hand.  They  fumbled 
with  the  latch  a  moment,  during  which  Jack  felt 
extremely  young,  and  was  conscious  of  redness 
creeping  up  to  his  ears.  But  then,  they  were 
quite  as  red,  he  reflected ;  and,  after  all,  as 
Hilda  said,  he  was  two  years  older  than  these 
boys,  and  if  they  really  were  all  she  made  them 
out  to  be  —  why  — 


218  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

So  it  was  a  very  different-looking  Jack  who 
advanced  to  meet  the  embarrassed  boys  at  the 
gate.  It  was  perhaps  the  first  time  in  his  young 
life  that  Gerald  had  been  embarrassed,  and  he 
found  the  sensation  unpleasant. 

Before  any  of  them  could  speak,  however,  a 
joyous  whoop  was  heard  from  another  quarter. 
Hugh  had  been  investigating  an  old  nest,  and 
had  just  caught  sight  of  the  friends  from  Pump- 
kin House.  He  came  running  now,  his  face 
alight  with  welcome. 

"  Oh?  Jerry !  How  do  you  do  ?  How  do  you 
do,  Phil  ?  I  am  very  well,  thank  you !  Do  you 
know  my  Jack  ?  Because  he  has  come  home ; 
and  he  is  almost  the  dearest  person  in  the  world. 
And  he  has  grown  up  his  own  beanstalk,  he 
says,  and  that  is  what  makes  him  so  tall.  And 
he  has  brought  me  the  most  beautiful  soldiers 
that  ever  were,  and  we  are  going  to  have  bat- 
tles, even  the  prancings,  the  prancings  of  their 
mighty  ones  !  Hurrah !  " 

"  Hurrah  it  is  !  "  said  Jack.  "  How  d'ye 
do?"  And  he  held  out  his  hand  cordially 
enough.  "Awfully  good  of  you  to  bring  the 


JIMMY'S   POND.  219 

skates  !  Come  in,  won't  you,  and  see  my  father 
and  my  uncle  ?  " 

"Didn't  know  whether  you  liked  Acmes  or 
Clubs/'  said  Gerald,  "  so  I  brought  both.  Clubs 
are  the  best,  we  all  think." 

"  So  do  I !  These  are  just  right,  I  think. 
Awfully  good  of  you,  I'm  sure !  You  ought  to 
see  the  things  they  wear  in  Germany ;  like  the 
old  ones  Uncle  Tom  has  hanging  up  in  that 
trophy  in  the  hall." 

Chatting  cheerfully,  they  moved  on  towards 
the  house,  taking  note  of  one  another  as  they 
went.  Jack  found  the  tones  of  the  boys'  voices 
very  clear  and  good,  free  from  any  nasal  qual- 
ity ;  Phil  and  Gerald  decided  that  there  must  be 
a  good  deal  of  muscle  in  those  long,  lean  arms, 
and  that  it  would  not  be  so  easy  to  "  lick  "  the 
stranger  as  they  had  thought  on  first  seeing 
him. 

On  Phil's  remarking  that  his  sisters  and  the 
"kids"  had  gone  across  the  fields  to  the  pond, 
there  to  await  the  rest  of  the  party,  Jack  said 
he  would  be  ready  in  three  minutes,  and  ushered 
them  into  the  library,  where  the  two  reunited 


220  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

brothers  were  peacefully  smoking  together.  The 
Colonel  received  the  boys  most  cordially,  and, 
while  Jack  hurried  away  to  put  on  jersey  and 
knickerbockers,  presented  them  to  "  My  brother 
Raymond.  Jack's  father,  young  gentlemen ! 
I  trust  you  and  my  nephew  Jack  will  be  friends. 
The  young  should  be  friendly,  —  eh,  Raymond? 
My  brother  Raymond,  boys,  is  a  man  of  genius. 
He  is  probably  studying  the  lines  of  a  fiddle 
at  this  moment,  —  an  imaginary  fiddle,  you 
understand,  —  and  I  doubt  if  he  is  aware  of 
your  presence,  or  of  one  word  I  have  been 
saying." 

"  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  Tom ! "  said  Mr. 
Ferrers,  holding  out  his  hand  to  the  boys, 
with  the  peculiarly  sweet  smile  that  won  all 
hearts  to  him  at  the  first  glance,  "  not  quite 
so  bad  as  that.  I  am  delighted  to  see  you, 
young  gentlemen.  I  have  already  heard  a  good 
deal  about  your  cheerful  circle  here.  I  am,  it  is 
true,  somewhat  absent-minded,  —  " 

"  Absent-minded !  Jupiter  Capitolinus  !  When 
it  comes  to  a  man  putting  sugar  and  cream  on 
his  mutton-chop  at  breakfast,  —  " 


JIMMY'S   POND.  221 

"  How  do  you  know  that  I  do  not  prefer  it 
so,  Tom  ?  We  have  many  curious  customs  in 
Virginia,  you  know.  It  wasn't  bad,  really  !  " 

"  Not  bad  !  "  snorted  the  Colonel.  "  Five- 
year-old  mutton,  hung  a  fortnight,  and  broiled 
by  Elizabeth  Beadle ;  and  this  man  treats  it  as 
a  pudding,  and  then  says  it  was  not  bad  !  Eliza- 
beth Beadle  wept  when  Giuseppe  told  her  about 
it ;  shed  tears,  sir !  Said  there  was  no  pleasure 
in  feeding  you." 

"  Poor  Elizabeth !  "  said  Raymond  Ferrers, 
laughing.  "  Dear,  good  soul !  I  must  go  and 
ask  her  to  make  me  some  molasses  cookies  with 
scalloped  edges.  Will  that  pacify  her,  Tom  ? 
Where  is  the  boy  ?  " 

"  Raymond,  do  not  try  me  further  than  I  can 
bear !  "  said  his  brother,  with  marked  ferocity. 
"  Ask  for  the  boy  every  five  minutes,  my  dear 
brother !  a  shorter  interval  than  that  is  beyond 
my  powers  of  endurance,  which  have  their 
limits.  The  boy,  sir,  if  you  persist  in  applying 
that  epithet  to  a  young  giraffe  who  has  already 
scraped  more  paint  off  my  lintels  than  I  can 
supply  in  six  months,  —  well,  I  will  make  it 


222  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

three,  if  you  specially  desire  it,  —  is  putting  on 
his  togs,  to  go  skating  with  these  young  fellows. 
And  what  is  more,  Raymond,  I  know  two  old 
fellows  who  are  going  to  be  asses  enough  to  put 
on  their  togs  and  go  skating  with  the  youngsters. 
Come  along,  sir !  Jimmy's  Pond,  Ray !  Come 
along !  " 

A  pleasant  sight  was  Jimmy's  Pond  an  hour 
later,  when  all  the  party  had  assembled.  Hilde- 
garde  came  in  regal  state,  escorted  by  Colonel 
Ferrers  and  his  brother,  one  walking  on  either 
side,  while  the  three  tall  lads  strode  along  be- 
fore, now  thoroughly  at  ease  with  each  other, 
and  Hugh  capered  and  curveted  in  the  rear. 
The  child  had  a  horse's  tail  fastened  to  his  belt 
behind,  and  was  Pegasus  on  Helicon,  oblivious 
of  all  things  earthly. 

They  found  Bell  and  Gertrude  awaiting  them, 
their  cheeks  already  glowing  from  a  preliminary 
tour  of  the  pond.  In  the  distance  Willy  and 
Kitty  could  be  seen  tugging  each  other  valiantly 
along,  falling  and  scrambling  down  and  up. 
Bell  was  looking  her  best,  in  her  trim  suit  of 
brown  velveteen,  with  the  pretty  little  mink  cap. 


,-,; 


ON    JIMMY  S    POND. 


JIMMY'S   POND.  223 

Hildegarde  thought  her  more  like  a  snow-apple 
than  ever,  and  hoped  Jack  saw  how  pretty  and 
sweet  she  was.  Air-castles  are  pleasant  build- 
ing, and  our  Hildegarde  had  one  well  under  way 
already ;  a  castle  whose  walls  should  rise  to  the 
sound  of  music,  and  in  which  two  happy  people 
should  play,  play,  play,  all  day  and  every  day. 

Hildegarde  herself,  in  dark  blue  corduroy 
trimmed  with  chinchilla,  was  very  good  to  look 
at,  and  more  than  one  pair  of  eyes  followed  her 
as  she  swept  along  in  graceful  curves,  holding 
Hugh's  hands  in  hers. 

"  A  very  lovely  young  creature,  Tom !  "  said 
Raymond  Ferrers,  as  he  stood  a  while,  after 
fastening  his  skates.  "Not  so  beautiful  as  her 
mother.  I  find  Mildred  more  beautiful  than 
ever,  Tom." 

"  You  were  always  near-sighted,  Raymond, 
you  will  allow  me  to  observe  !  "  cried  the  Colonel, 
ruffling  instantly.  "  I  admire  Mrs.  Grahame 
beyond  any  woman  —  of  her  age  —  that  lives. 
She  is  a  noble  woman,  sir !  an  admirable  crea- 
ture !  But  to  say  that  she  compares  in  looks 
with  a  blooming  creature  like  that,  —  a  princess, 


224  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

by  Jove*!  A  young  Diana,  the  very  sight  of 
whom  makes  a  man  young  again.  By  the  way, 
Raymond,"  he  added,  after  a  pause,  in  an  altered 
voice.  "  I  don't  know,  my  dear  fellow,  whether 
you  have  noticed  any  —  a  —  resemblance,  any 
look  of  — eh?" 

"  Yes,  indeed,  my  dear  Tom ;  I  noticed  it 
instantly.  Sweet  Hester !  This  might  be  her 
younger  sister.  Yes  !  yes  !  Tempo  passato,  eh, 
brother  ?  We  are  old  fellows,  but  we  once  were 
young." 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense ! "  cried  the  Colonel, 
throwing  off  his  mood  with  sudden  violence. 
"  Speak  for  yourself,  sir !  If  a  man  chooses 
to  spend  his  days  hunched  over  a  table,  mak- 
ing fiddles,  I  don't  say  how  things  may  turn  out 
with  him  ;  but  for  myself,  —  here,  Young  Sir  ! 
bring  me  a  hockey-stick,  will  you  ?  " 

Hugh,  prancing  by  in  full  career,  paused,  and 
surveyed  his  guardian  with  dreamy  eyes. 

"Hi -hi -hi!"  he  replied,  with  a  creditable 
attempt  at  a  whinny. 

The  Colonel  stiffened  to  «  attention." 

"  What  did  I  understand  you  to  remark,  sir  ?  " 


JIMMY'S   POND.  225 

he  inquired.  "  I  experience  a  difficulty  in  fol- 
lowing your  interesting  observation." 

"  Hi-hi-hi !  "  repeated  the  boy.  "  I  am  Pegasus  ; 
I  do  not  understand  your  language.  I  will  find 
Bellerophon,  and  send  him  to  you." 

He  retired  a  few  paces,  and  gravely  removed 
his  tail,  then  came  back,  beaming  with  cheerful- 
ness, every  inch  a  boy. 

"  What  was  it  you  wanted,  Guardian  ?  "  he 
cried.  "  I  was  a  horse  then,  you  see,  so  I  really 
couldn't ;  please  excuse  me  !  " 

"  I  wanted  a  hockey-stick,  sir !  "  said  the  Colo- 
nel, with  some  severity.  "  And  it  is  my  opinion 
that  two-legged  horses  would  better  keep  their 
wits  about  them. 

"A  game  of  hockey,  Raymond,"  here  he  turned 
to  his  brother,  "will  warm  your  blood,  and 
bring  back  your  wits.  '  Polo,'  they  call  it  now- 
adays ;  parcel  of  fools !  It's  my  belief  that 
nine-tenths  of  the  human  race  to-day  don't 
know  what  they  are  talking  about.  Don't  un- 
derstand their  own  language,  sir !  Polo,  indeed ! 
Ha !  here  are  the  sticks.  Now  we  shall  see  about 
this  (  old  fellow '  business !  " 


226  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Indeed,  it  was  a  marvellous  thing  to  see  the 
agility  of  the  Colonel  in  his  favourite  sport.  He 
swept  here  and  there,  he  made  the  most  aston- 
ishing hits,  he  hooked  the  ball  from  under  the 
very  noses  of  the  amazed  and  delighted  boys. 
Raymond  Ferrers,  too,  after  watching  the  sport 
for  a  few  minutes,  yielded  to  the  spirit  of  the 
hour,  and  was  soon  cutting  away  with  the  best 
of  them. 

A  pleasant  sight  was  Jimmy's  Pond,  indeed ! 
The  pond  itself  was  a  thing  of  beauty,  a  disk  of 
crystal  dropped  down  in  a  hollow  of  dark  woods  ; 
dropped  into  the  middle  of  this  again,  a  tiny 
islet,  with  a  group  of  slender  firs,  lovely  to 
behold.  And  dotted  here  and  there  on  the 
shining  gray-silver  of  the  ice,  these  happy  play- 
ers, young  and  old,  darted  hither  and  thither, 
filled  with  the  joy  of  the  hour  and  the  pleasure 
of  each  other's  presence. 

It  might  have  been  interesting,  could  one 
have  stood  invisible  on  the  bank,  to  hear  the 
fragments  of  talk,  as  the  different  groups  swept 
by  in  the  chase.  They  seemed  to  drop  naturally 
into  couples,  without  any  special  prearrange- 


JIMMY'S   POND.  227 

ment.  First  came  the  two  brothers,  intent  on 
the  ball,  bent  on  keeping  it  ahead  of  them,  and 
unconscious  of  anything  else. 

"  Now,  sir !  "  the  Colonel  would  cry.  "  Let 
me  see  you  beat  that !  Hi !  There  she  —  no  ! 
she  doesn't !  Ha !  ha !  Beat  you  that  time,  sir  ! 

" « Poor  old  Raymound, 
Fell  into  a  hay-mound  ! ' 

"  Do  you  remember  that,  sir  ?  Only  rhyme  I 
ever  made  in  my  life  ;  proud  as  a  peacock  I  was 
of  it,  sir !  And  what  was  the  scurrilous  verse 
you  made  about  me  ?  " 

"  '  Tommy,  Tommy  Tantrum, 
Crowing  like  a  bantrum ! '  " 

said  his  brother,  laughing. 

"  I  always  call  them  '  bantrums/  always  shall. 
Aha !  Where  are  you  now,  boy  ?  Off  she  goes !  " 

Next  came  Gertrude  and  Phil,  swinging  easily 
along  together. 

"  So  glad  he  is  really  nice,  because  he  looks 
so,  and  it  would  be  so  horrid  if  he  were  horrid, 
wouldn't  it,  Phil?  And  Bell  says  he  plays  — 
oh,  wonderfully,  you  know." 


228  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  Playing  isn't  everything  in  the  world,  Toots ! 
But  he  does  seem  to  be  a  good  fellow  enough. 
Told  us  a  lot,  coming  over  here,  about  the  way 
he  lived  over  in  Germany.  I  say !  I'd  like  to 
go  there  !  Two  or  three  duels  every  day ;  great 
sport,  it  must  be  !  " 

Now  it  was  Willy  and  Kitty,  skating  away 
sturdily,  with  short,  energetic  strokes,  and  hold- 
ing each  other  up  bravely. 

"So  he  asked  me  if  I  would  swap  with  him 
for  another  hard  one,  and  I  said  yes,  if  it  was 
hard  enough ;  for  this  Mexican  one,  you  see, 
was  very  hard  indeed.  He  said  it  was. 

"So  I  said  all  right,  hand  it  over.  Well, 
it  was  just  the  end  of  recess,  and  he  handed  it 
over,  all  scrumpled  up,  in  a  kind  of  hurry,  and 
I  crammed  it  into  my  pocket  without  looking. 
And  when  I  came  to  look  at  it  after  school,  it 
was  a  mean  old  three-cent  '  Norji.'  So  I 
knocked  him  down,  and  it  just  happened  that 
one  of  his  old  teeth  was  loose,  and  it  came  out. 
I  was  glad  of  it,  and  so  were  all  the  fellows,  for 
he  meant  to  cheat,  you  see  ;  that's  why  I  had 
the  black  marks." 


JIMMY'S   POND.  229 

Now  come  Jack  and  Bell,  she  a  little  out  of 
breath,  being  unused  to  skating  with  a  giraffe  ; 
he  all  unconscious,  discoursing  high  themes. 

"  Yes,  a  good  many  people  play  it  short,  with 
a  kind  of  choppiness.  I  hate  to  hear  a  violin 

chop.  But  J gives  it  with  a  long,  smooth 

crescendo  that  seems  to  carry  you  straight  out 
of  the  room,  you  know,  out  into  the  open  air, 
and  up  among  tree-tops.  Do  you  ever  feel  that 
way  ?  You  seem  to  feel  the  air  blowing  all 
about  you,  and  —  hear  all  the  voices  that  are 
shut  up  in  the  trees  and  flowers,  and  can't  get  out 
generally.  You  know  what  I  mean,  I  am  sure  !  " 

"  Yes,"  says  Bell,  softly.  "  But  they  are  all 
answering  to  the  violin,  don't  you  think  ?  They 
would  not  speak  to  the  piano  in  that  way." 

"  Depends  upon  who  plays  it,"  says  gallant 
Jack.  And  Hildegarde,  close  behind,  hears,  and 
stumbles  a  little,  and  catches  Gerald's  hand, 
laughing. 

"  Take  them  both!  "  says  Gerald.  "  Take,  in- 
cidentally, my  heart  with  them  ;  unless  its  size 
and  its  lacerated  condition  would  make  the  bur- 
den unwelcome,  Hilda  ?  " 


230  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  I  doubt  if  I  should  notice,"  says  Hildegarde. 
"  Yes,  I  will  take  both  hands,  Jerry ;  let  us  try 
the  outer  edge,  now.  There !  that  is  a  delight- 
ful swing !  You  do  skate  very  well,  my  child." 

"  Ah  !  you  should  see  Roger  skate  !  "  cried 
loyal  Gerald ;  and  is  rewarded  by  seeing  a  very 
pretty  blush  deepen  in  his  companion's  bright 
cheek. 

"  Good  old  Codger !  I  wish  he  were  here, 
skating  with  you,  Hilda  !  " 

"  Thank  you  !  "  says  Hilda.  "  I  am  sorry  to 
incommode  you,  Gerald.  I  can  skate  perfectly 
well  alone,  thank  you.  There  !  Don't  be  absurd, 
Jerry !  You'll  get  out  of  step  if  you  don't  take 
care.  Do  you  think  we  could  do  a  figure  of 
eight  together  ?  Let's  try  !  " 

Last  of  all,  alone,  yet  in  a  world  peopled  with 
fantastic  joys,  came  little  Hugh.  He  had  his 
tail  on  again,  and  he  was  skating  with  a  high- 
stepping  gait,  rather  more  suggestive  of  trotting 
than  was  compatible  with  safety.  He  mur- 
mured to  himself  as  he  went,  and  his  talk  was 
far  from  hockey  or  any  delights  of  skating. 

"  Yonder,  dear  Bellerophon !  look  yonder,  far 


JIMMY'S   POND.  231 

down  below  this  fleecy  cloud  that  I  am  just  go- 
ing to  plunge  into  !  Now  wait  till  I  get  through 
it,  and  you  will  see.  The  cloud  is  all  full  of 
monsters,  whales,  and  crocodiles,  and  —  hairy 
mammoths ;  and  we  have  to  plunge  through 
them,  and  they  claw  after  us  and  try  to  catch 
us.  But  I  switch  my  tail,  dear  Bellerophon" 
(here  he  switched  the  tail  vigorously),  "  and  that 
frightens  them,  so  that  they  crawl  back  into 
their  holes,  the  ugly  things.  But  down  on  the 
earth  there,  do  you  see  three  little  spires  of 
smoke,  right  by  the  mouth  of  that  black  hole  ? 
That  is  the  Chimaera,  Bellerophon!  We  have 
come  all  the  way,  and  now  we  are  going  to 
have  the  most  terrible  fight  that  any  one  ever 
had,  —  Samson  or  Hercules  or  any  one  else.  Aha! 
now  is  the  time,  you  see,  for  me  to  say  '  Aha ' 
among  the  trumpets  ;  that  is  why  I  made  you 
bring  your  trumpet  along.  My  neck  is  clothed 
with  thunder,  and  I  am  pawing  in  the  valley. 
See  me  paw  !  " 

Alas,  for  the  winged  steed !  Pawing  in  the 
valley  is  a  dangerous  pastime  on  smooth  ice, 
and  unsustained  by  hind  legs.  Pegasus,  his 


232  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

head  high  in  air,  looking  forward  to  battle  and 
glory,  paid  little  attention  to  things  at  his  feet. 
His  skate  caught  in  a  crack,  and,  checked  in 
full  speed,  he  came  heavily  to  the  ground,  and 
lay  motionless. 

Hildegarde  and  Gerald  heard  the  crash,  and 
were  at  his  side  in  a  moment,  raising  him.  The 
little  fellow  was  stunned,  and  there  was  an  ugly 
cut  on  his  forehead. 

"  Hugh,  dear !  "  cried  Hildegarde.  "  Is  it 
very  bad,  little  boy  ?  You  are  all  right  now ; 
Jerry  and  I  are  here,  and  you  will  be  feeling 
better  in  a  moment." 

She  took  the  child's  head  in  her  lap,  and 
stanched  the  blood  with  her  handkerchief,  rub- 
bing his  temples  gently,  while  Gerald  chafed  his 
hands.  Presently  Hugh  opened  his  eyes.  At 
first  his  look  was  vacant,  but  soon  the  light 
came  back  into  the  blue  eyes,  and  he  tried  to 
smile. 

"  I  pawed  too  hard  !  "  he  whispered.  "  Be- 
loved, it  wasn't  the  right  valley  to  paw  in." 

Hildegarde  and  Gerald  exchanged  glances. 

"  He's  a  little  out !  "  murmured  Gerald.  "  We'd 


JIMMY'S   POND.    *  233 

better  get  him  home  as  quick  as  we  can.  Phil 
and  I  will  carry  him." 

By  this  time  the  others,  looking  back,  had 
seen  that  something  was  wrong,  and  came  hur- 
rying back.  Colonel  Ferrers  turned  very  white 
when  he  saw  Hugh  lying  motionless,  his  head 
pillowed  on  Hildegarde's  lap,  and  the  red  stain 
on  his  temple. 

"  My  little  boy  !  "  he  gasped.  "  Jack,  where 
are  you  ?  The  child  !  The  child  is  hurt !  "  Jack 
was  already  bending  over  Hugh;  indeed,  the 
anxious  group  pressed  so  close  that  Hildegarde 
motioned  them  to  back. 

"I  don't  think  he  is  much  hurt,"  she  said, 
looking  up  at  the  Colonel,  and  speaking  as 
cheerfully  as  she  could.  "  He  spoke  to  me  just 
now,  Colonel  Ferrers.  He  was  stunned  by  the 
fall.  I  don't  think  the  cut  amounts  to  any- 
thing, really." 

"  No,"  said  Jack,  who  had  been  examining 
the  cut,  "this  isn't  anything,  Uncle  Tom. 
It's  the  shock  that  is  the  trouble,  and  he'll  be 
over  that  in  a  minute.  You're  better  already, 
aren't  you,  old  chap  ?  " 


234  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Hugh  opened  his  eyes  again,  but  slowly,  as 
if  it  were  an  effort. 

"  How  do  you  do  ?  "  he  said,  politely.  "  Yes, 
I  am  better,  thank  you,  but  not  quite  well  yet. 
You  did  not  seem  to  understand  what  I  said,  so 
I  thought  I  would  wait  till  I  could  speak  better." 

Seeing  Jack  look  bewildered,  Gerald  whis- 
pered, "  He  was  talking  nonsense.  He  takes  you 
for  me  now;  it  was  to  me  he. was  talking." 

"  I  was  not  talking  nonsense ! "  said  Hugh, 
clearly.  "  I  said  I  had  been  pawing  in  the 
valley,  and  that  this  was  not  the  right  valley 
to  paw  in.  It  wasn't !  My  Beloved  will  under- 
stand what  I  mean,  if  she  uses  her  mind." 

"  He  was  a  horse  !  "  cried  the  Colonel.  "  As- 
tonishing thing,  that  nobody  can  understand  that 
child,  when  he  is  speaking  perfectly  rationally. 
He  was  a  horse,  I  tell  you !  Whinnied  at  me, 
sir,  when  I  asked  him  to  get  me  a  hockey-stick. 
Try  it  again,  Boy !  Let's  hear  you  once  more, 
eh?" 

Hugh  smiled,  but  could  not  do  more  than 
shake  his  head. 

"  Thank  you  for  explaining,  Guardian !  "  he 


JIMMY'S   POND.  235 

said.  "  I  was  Pegasus,  you  see,  and  Bellerophon 
and  I  were  just  going  to  plunge  down  through 
the  clouds  and  kill  the  Chimaera ;  but  I  forgot 
where  I  was  for  a  minute,  and  began  to  paw  in 
the  valley,  and  say  '  Aha ! '  and,  of  course,  the 
cloud  broke  through,  and  down  we  went.  I  hope 
dear  Bellerophon  isn't  hurt." 

"  Bellerophon  is  all  right !  "  said  Jack.  "  Right 
as  a  trivet.  He  says  he  thinks  you'd  better  go 
home,  old  man ;  he  thinks  it  will  be  better  Chi- 
maera-hunting  to-morrow,  anyhow." 

"  Yes !  yes ! "  cried  the  Colonel,  making  a 
brave  effort  to  enter  into  the  child's  idea. 

"  Go  back  to  the  stable,  Boy, —  I  mean  Dobbin, 
or  whatever  your  name  is,  and  —  and  have  some 
hay ! " 

But  Hugh's  brow  contracted. 

"  Pegasus  didn't  eat  hay !  "  he  murmured,  still 
leaning  against  Hildegarde's  shoulder. 

"  No,  dear,"  said  the  girl.  "  The  Colonel  did 
not  mean  hay;  he  meant  asphodels  and  amar- 
anth and  moly." 

"That  sounds  better,"  said  Hugh. 

"  I  say,"  whispered  Gerald,  who  was  begin- 


236  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

ning  to  recover  from  his  alarm,  "  you  know,  I 
suppose,  that  asphodel  is  a  kind  of  pigweed  ?  " 

"  Hush  !  Yes !  There  is  no  need  of  the  child's 
knowing  it  yet.  How  shall  we  get  him  home, 
Jack  ?  " 

"  But  I  will  walk  home  !  "  cried  Hugh,  hear- 
ing the  last  words.  "  I  will  perhaps  trot  home, 
only  slowly." 

He  tried  to  rise,  but  sank  back  again. 

"  It  appears  as  if  there  were  wheels  in  my 
head,"  he  murmured.  "  They  go  round  too 
fast." 

"  Of  course  they  do,"  said  Jack,  in  the  most 
matter-of-fact  way.  "  I'm  going  to  harness  my- 
self into  them,  and  take  you  home  that  way. 
Put  him  up  on  my  back,  will  you,  Merry  weather  ? 
So  !  there  we  are  !  " 

Delighted  to  find  himself  in  the  once  familiar 
position,  Hugh  looked  up  to  smile  at  the  anxious 
Colonel,  who  stood  wiping  his  brow,  and  wishing 
for  once  that  he  were  twenty  and  a  giraffe. 

"  I'm  all  right  now,  Guardian ! "  he  said. 
"  All  right,  Beloved !  My  Jack  is  an  ostrich 
again,  and  I  am  not  Pegasus  any  more  just 


JIMMY'S    POND.  237 

now.  I  am  only  Hugh.  Good-bye !  Good 
hunting ! " 

"  Only  Hugh  !  "  repeated  Colonel  Ferrers,  gaz- 
ing after  the  two,  as  they  went  across  the  field, 
Jack  walking  steadily,  with  long,  even  steps, 
very  different  from  his  usual  hop-skip-and-jump 
method  of  progression. 

"  Only  Hugh  !  Only  the  greater  part  of  the 
world  —  eh  ?  what  are  you  saying,  Hilda,  my 
dear?" 

"  Only  that  we  will  go  home  together,  dear 
Colonel  Ferrers ! "  said  Hildegarde,  who  had 
already  taken  off  her  skates.  "  We  will  go  back 
together,  and  the  others  can  follow  whenever 
they  are  ready.  We  shall  find  him  comfortable 
already,  with  Mrs.  Beadle  tucking  him  up  in 
bed,  and  talking  about  chicken  broth  and  wine 
jelly,  neither  of  which  he  will  need  in  the  least. 
Come,  dear  sir  !  " 

"  I  will  come  !  "  said  the  Colonel.  "  You  are 
a  good  child,  Hilda  !  I  —  I  am  rather  shaken, 
I  believe.  I  will  come  with  pleasure,  my  love ! 
Be  good  enough  to  take  my  arm ! " 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

MERRY    CHRISTMAS. 

HILDEGARDE  awoke  in  the  dark,  with  the 
sound  of  bells  in  the  air.  Her  first  thought 
was  that  of  all  women  in  similar  case  —  fire ! 
She  sat  up  in  bed  and  listened ;  but  these  were 
no  fire-bells  that  rang  so  joyously,  breaking 
through  the  hush  of  the  winter  morning  with 
glad  rejoicing.  "  Glory  to  the  newly  born  ! " 
she  said,  softly,  and  was  silent  for  a  little.  Pres- 
ently she  waved  her  hand  in  a  comprehensive 
greeting  to  the  friends  on  walls  and  shelves, 
whom  she  could  not  yet  see. 

"  Merry  Christmas !  "  she  cried.  "  Merry 
Christmas,  Sir  Walter !  Merry  Christmas,  Vis- 
count, and  you  too,  Saint  William !  What  a 
pity  I  cannot  say  it  in  Dutch  ! " 

She  hummed  a  carol  to  herself,  as  she  recalled 
the  night  before,  Christmas  Eve,  which  she  had 
spent  with  the  Merry  weathers.  They  had  gone 


MERRY   CHRISTMAS.  239 

together  to  the  carol  service  at  the  little  church, 
which  they  had  all  helped  to  make  beautiful 
with  spruce  and  fir  and  hemlock.  After  that 
they  sang  hymns  and  carols  at  home,  in  full 
chorus,  with  such  hearty  good-will  and  earnest 
feeling  as  it  was  a  joy  to  remember ;  and  then 
came  the  hanging  of  the  stockings.  An  only 
child  for  so  long,  Hildegarde  had  never  seen 
before  the  bewildering,  enchanting  bustle  of 
Christmas  Eve  in  a  large  family;  the  hanging 
of  the  stockings,  six  in  a  row,  the  whole  length 
of  the  great  fireplace  in  the  nursery ;  the  de- 
lightful mysteries,  the  parcels  which  no  one 
saw,  the  whisperings  which  no  one  heard  save 
those  to  whom  they  were  addressed,  the  tip- 
toeing hither  and  thither,  the  rustle  of  tissue- 
paper,  —  ah !  it  was  all  very  pleasant !  The  kind 
friends  had  begged  her  to  stay  with  them,  and 
share  the  morning  fun,  which  they  declared  to 
be  the  best  of  all;  but  that  Hildegarde  could 
not  do. 

"  Mamma  and  I  have  only  each  other ! "  she 
said.  "  You  would  not  really  have  me  leave 
her  alone,  dear  people  !  "  and  the  Merryweathers 


240  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

were  obliged  to  confess  that  they  would  not, 
upon  any  account.  So  they  had  parted,  with 
many  plans  and  promises  for  the  next  day, — 
the  great,  the  blessed  day  of  the  year.  And 
now  it  was  here!  and  oh,  was  it — could  it 
really  be  snowing? 

Hildegarde  listened,  and  heard  a  sound  as 
of  fairy  hands  beating  softly  on  the  window- 
panes.  It  was  growing  lighter  every  moment, 
but  the  light  came  through  a  soft,  white  dim- 
ness. Hildegarde  ran  to  the  window ;  the 
ground  was  white,  the  dark  branches  of  the 
evergreens  were  bending  under  a  weight  of 
snow,  and  it  was  snowing  still,  not  furiously, 
but  in  a  quiet,  determined  way,  that  meant 
business.  Oh,  joy  !  At  last,  the  longed  -  for 
winter  had  come !  This  ungrateful  girl  had 
already  received  many  favours  from  the  Frost 
King ;  she  had  skated,  she  had  had  icicles  to  eat, 
she  had  broken  through  the  ice,  and  got  a  good 
wetting,  —  still  she  was  not  content,  but  longed 
for  snow ;  and  now  she  had  her  heart's  desire. 

"  And  we'll  all  go  tobogganing, 
Bog,  bog,  bogganing  1 " 


MERRY   CHRISTMAS.  241 

she  sang,  as  she  dressed  herself,  stopping  now 
and  then  to  dance  about  the  room  a  little  when 
she  felt  cold ;  for  the  morning  was  evidently 
sharp,  and  the  cold  had  got  into  the  house  in 
good  earnest. 

Running  down-stairs,  she  found  the  breakfast- 
room  warm  and  bright  with  a  crackling,  leaping 
fire  on  the  hearth.  Mrs.  Grahame  was  already 
down,  and  her  long,  silent  embrace  was  the 
first  and  best  Christmas  greeting.  Then  it  was 
"Merry  Christmas  !  "  and  again  "  Merry  Christ- 
mas ! "  as  Auntie  came  into  the  room,  bringing 
the  fragrant  coffee,  and  the  tray  piled  high  with 
good  things. 

"  Oh,  and  the  mail  has  come ! "  cried  Hilde- 
garde,  fairly  dancing  round  the  table  to  her 
place.  "  See,  my  love !  Letters  from  every- 
body, heaps  upon  heaps!  Oh,  what  joy!" 

There  were  greetings  from  all  the  distant 
friends,  it  seemed ;  from  all  the  good  people  at 
Bywood,  from  Rose  and  Doctor  Flower,  from 
the  dear  old  couple  at  Hartley's  Glen. 

"  Oh,  how  good  every  one  is ! "  cried  Hilde- 
garde.  "And  here  is  a  parcel  —  Mammina, 


242  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

what  can  this  be  ?  It  looks  like  Aunt  Emily's 
hand." 

"It  seems  a  desperate  measure  to  propose/' 
said  Mrs.  Grahame,  "  but  I  have  heard  of  parcels 
being  opened  in  such  a  case.  I  should  not  wish 
to  influence  you  —  " 

"  Oh,  my  dear !  "  cried  the  girl,  who  had  been 
acting  on  the  suggestion,  and  undoing  the  box 
tied  carefully  with  floss  silk.  "My  Respected 
Parent,  will  you  look  at  this  ?  " 

It  was  the  prettiest  watch,  surely,  that  ever 
was  seen,  set  with  blue  enamel  and  pearls ;  and 
with  it  came  a  stately  little  note,  assuring  "  my 
grandniece  "  that  this  was  a  slight  return  indeed 
for  the  pleasure  that  she  had  given  to  her  affec- 
tionate E.  D. 

"  Poor  dear  Aunt  Emily !  "  cried  Hildegarde. 
"  She  has  so  little  pleasure,  I  suppose  every  little 
attention  counts  for  a  good  deal.  Oh,  aren't 
you  glad  we  sent  her  the  Mechlin  tabs  ?  She 
and  Hobson  will  have  good  times  over  them,  I 
am  sure.  Well,  Auntie,  what  now  ?  " 

Auntie  brought  in  a  huge  box.  "Dis  ain't 
for  you,  Miss  Hildy,  chile,  dis  for  you'  Ma. 


MERRY   CHRISTMAS.  248 

You  can'  'spec5  to  have  everything,  young 
lady ! " 

"  Flowers,  Mammina !  Oh,  the  lovely  things ! 
Do  let  me  see  —  From  Mr.  Raymond  Ferrers ! 
The  dear  thing!  Why,  we  shall  be  a  perfect 
bower,  for  I  know  the  Colonel  is  going  to  send 
you  a  box.  Dear  me  !  What  a  delightful  time 
we  are  having,  aren't  we,  love  ?  " 

"  If  you  don't  eat  your  breakfast,  Hilda,  I 
shall  have  all  these  things  taken  away,  and 
kept  till  dinner." 

"Oh,  I  will  eat,  I  will  indeed!  See  me! 
Observe  me  sacrificing  myself  to  rolls  and 
orange  marmalade !  But  do  you  see  that  it  is 
snowing,  my  own?  And  do  you  know  what 
that  means?  Tobogganing  this  afternoon,  if 
there  is  any  faith  in  Merry  weathers." 

Hildegarde  was  so  excited  it  was  really  diffi- 
cult for  her  to  eat  anything  like  enough  to  sat- 
isfy the  demands  of  Auntie. 

"You  ain't  goin'  to  no  chu'ch  on  no  empty 
stomick ! "  that  potentate  announced ;  and  she 
actually  stood  over  Hildegarde  till  a  fair  portion 
of  her  good  things  was  disposed  of.  Then,  when 


244  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

church-time  came,  she  must  see  personally  that 
both  her  "  Missies  "  were  properly  wrapped,  and 
properly  toasted  before  going  out. 

"  You  ain't  no  right  to  go  out  at  all,  Mis'  Gra- 
hame,  and  you  knows  it  well  as  I  do ;  but  dere 
ain't  no  holdin'  you  some  times,  and  dis  is  one 
of  'em,  I  know.  Nothin'  for  old  woman  to  do, 
'cept  just  see  dat  you's  fixed  up  right.  You' 
bonnet  ain't  straight,  mum;  I  should  go  crazy 
if  you  started  out  like  ob  dat." 

The  chore-man  had  already  been  at  work  with 
shovel  and  broom,  so  that  there  was  a  path  cleared 
through  the  snow  to  the  road ;  the  snow  was  al- 
ready quite  deep,  and  Hildegarde  and  her  mother 
were  glad  of  their  high  snow-boots,  as  they  picked 
their  way  along.  Hildegarde  stopped  every  other 
moment  to  take  a  handful  of  snow  from  some 
hanging  branch,  sometimes  to  eat  it,  oftener  to 
toss  it  in  the  air  for  pure  joy.  It  was  beautiful 
snow,  soft  and  dry,  the  crystals  showing  with 
exquisite  distinctness. 

"  I  feel  about  ten  years  old,  darling!  "  the  girl 
announced,  as  she  frisked  hither  and  thither. 

"  So  I  perceive !  "  said  Mrs.  Grahame,  who 


MERRY   CHRISTMAS.  245 

was  walking  soberly  along,  even  deigning  to 
protect  her  bonnet  with  a  prosaic  umbrella. 

"I  feel  rather  doubtful  about  taking  you, 
Hildegarde.  Suppose  you  should  turn  round 
and  smile  at  the  little  boy  behind  you,  as  you 
did  the  first  time  I  took  you  to  church ! " 

But  by  the  time  they  reached  the  old  stone 
church,  Hildegarde  was  grave  enough.  This 
was  the  best  of  all,  she  said  to  herself,  as  she 
took  her  place  in  the  choir,  and  heard  Bell's  firm 
touch  on  the  keys  of  the  organ  behind  her. 

The  Pastoral  Symphony !  Hildegarde  gave 
a  long  sigh  of  pure  happiness,  and  leaned  back 
in  her  seat.  She  might  have  known  Bell  would 
play  it !  She  knew  that  her  friend  was  to  take 
the  organist's  place  during  the  Christmas  vaca- 
tion ;  but  she  did  not  know  that  somehow,  in  all 
the  hurry  and  happy  bustle  of  yesterday,  two 
young  musicians  had  contrived,  by  hook  or  by 
crook,  to  get  an  hour's  practice  together  in  the 
church,  as  a  Christmas  surprise  for  her  very  own 
self,  and  when,  above  the  deep,  throbbing  tones 
of  the  organ,  rose  the  exquisite  voice  of  the  vio- 
lin, Hildegarde  felt  her  cup  very  full  indeed,  and 


246  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

hardly  tried  to  check  the  thankful  tears  that 
sprang  to  her  eyes.  The  church  was  full  of  the 
warm  fragrance  of  balsam  fir ;  the  long  garlands 
of  green  clothed  the  old  gray  walls  with  a  lovely 
grace  ;  she  saw  her  mother's  face  in  the  pew  near 
by ;  the  music  soared  heavenward,  and  her  soul 
mounted  with  it.  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 
and  on  earth  peace,  good-will  to  men  !  "  When 
it  came  her  turn  to  sing,  she  felt  heaven  near, 
indeed,  and  the  peace  of  blessedness  descending 
on  her.' 

By  noon  it  had  stopped  snowing ;  by  three 
o'clock  the  sky  was  clear,  and  the  world  lay 
white  and  glittering,  a  new  thing,  under  a  sky 
of  crystal. 

"  Just  like  the  biggest  plummy  cake  that  ever 
was  baked !  "  cried  Willy  Merry  weather,  as  he 
capered  about  before  his  toboggan.  The  clan 
was  gathering  for  the  first  tobogganing  of  the 
season.  Here  was  Mr.  Merry  weather,  tall  and 
stalwart,  in  a  fur  cap  big  enough  for  the  Czar  of 
all  the  Russias ;  here  were  all  the  children,  big 
and  little,  in  "  muffs  and  furs  and  fluffs,"  all  rosy 
and  happy  and  beaming;  here  was  Hildegarde, 


MERRY   CHRISTMAS.  247 

in  moccasins,  and  the  prettiest  scarlet  blanket- 
suit  ;  finally,  here  was  Jack  Ferrers,  striding 
across  the  fields  at  a  tremendous  rate  when  he 
saw  that  the  others  were  waiting  for  him. 

"  Oh,  Jack  !  couldn't  Hugh  come  ?  "  cried 
Hildegarde,  as  her  cousin  came  up.  "  He 
looked  pretty  pale  this  morning,  I  thought, 
dear  little  fellow !  Is  he  f eeling  badly  to- 
day?" 

Hugh  had  not  been  like  himself  since  the  fall 
on  the  ice.  He  had  a  good  deal  of  headache, 
and  seemed  heavy  and  drowsy,  not  at  all  his 
own  bright  self.  Hildegarde  spoke  anxiously, 
and  Jack  answered  her  look  as  well  as  her 
question. 

"Not  much  the  matter,  I  hope,  but  Uncle 
Tom  thought  he'd  better  keep  quiet  this  after- 
noon, so  as  to  be  all  fit  for  the  tree  this  evening. 
His  head  does  ache,  Hilda,  but  he  says  it  isn't 
bad,  and  he  sent  you  all  kinds  of  messages,  and 
said  you  were  to  have  twice  as  good  a  time,  for 
his  sake,  as  you  would  have  had  if  he  had  been 
on  hand.  Poor  little  chap !  I  promised  him 
I  would  give  you  a  famous  time;  so  come  on, 


248  HILDEGARDE'S  HARVEST. 

Hilda,  and  don't  let  me  see  those  grave  looks 
any  more." 

"You  are  darkening  the  sky,  Hilda,"  cried 
Gerald,  "  and  we  can't  have  our  Christmas  sun- 
shine spoiled  !  Look  at  the  Pater !  Isn't  he  im- 
mense ?  Like  a  Russian  Boyar,  or  a  Wallachian 
Hospodar,  or  something  of  that  kind." 

"  We  might  all  find  some  good,  snowy  title !  " 
said  Bell.  "  You  shall  be  a  Starosta,  Jerry,  and 
Phil  a  Voevoda,  and  Mr.  Ferrers  a  Magyar." 

"  Oh,  there  are  plenty  more  titles ! "  said 
Jack.  "  We  must  have  a  Sotnik,  and  a  Het- 
man,  and  a  —  " 

"  Who  is  coming  tobogganing  ? "  cried  Mr. 
Merryweather.  "Is  this  a  conversazione,  or  an 
expedition  ?  " 

They  all  started  off,  talking  and  laughing,  for 
the  nearest  hill.  They  chose  the  well-known 
slope  that  swept  round  the  foot  of  Braeside, 
beyond  the  stone  wall  that  separated  it  from 
Roseholme.  Climbing  the  slope,  Hildegarde  re- 
membered the  first  time  she  had  climbed  it,  and 
how  she  climbed  a  tree,  too,  and  was  caught  by 
Colonel  Ferrers  in  the  act,  and  taken  for  a 


MERRY   CHRISTMAS.  249 

marauding  boy.  How  long  ago  it  all  seemed ; 
and  how  strange  to  think  of  their  ever  having 
been  strangers  to  their  dear  Colonel,  or  to  any 
of  the  good  friends  who  had  grown  so  near  and 
so  dear. 

At  the  top,  they  paused  to  draw  breath,  for 
the  ascent  was  steep ;  then  Mr.  Merry  weather, 
as  commander-in-chief,  marshalled  his  forces, 
and  arranged  them  in  line  of  march. 

"  Let  me  see  !  Hilda,  will  you  come  with  me  ? 
and  Gertrude  ?  So !  Now,  Phil,  you  shall  take 
Bell  and  Kitty ;  and  you  and  Mr.  Ferrers,  Gerald, 
take  the  little  one.  There  !  How  will  that  do  ?  " 

All  declared  themselves  satisfied,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  take  their  places  on  the  toboggans. 
The  girls  tucked  up  their  skirts  carefully,  the 
boys  pressed  their  caps  down  firmly  over  their 
ears. 

"  All  ready  ?"  asked  the  Chief.  «  Now  then  ! 
one,  two,  three  —  off ! " 

Down  swept  the  toboggans ;  down,  down, 
down !  Hildegarde  was  clutching  Mr.  Merry- 
weather's  leather  belt,  and  she  felt  as  if  it  were 
the  only  thing  that  kept  her  from  flying  off  en- 


250  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

tirely.  The  swift  motion  took  her  breath  away ; 
the  light  snow,  puffing  in  her  face,  rising  up  in 
clouds  on  every  side,  half  blinded  her.  On  and 
on,  gliding  now  over  the  long  meadow  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  still  with  the  flight  of  an  arrow ; 
till  at  last,  with  a  skilful  turn,  they  were  brought 
up  alongside  the  stone  wall  that  bounded  the 
field,  and  landed  in  a  good  soft  drift. 

Up  they  all  jumped,  rosy  and  snow-powdered, 
shouting  with  glee. 

"  Oh  !  wasn't  it  glorious  !  "  cried  Hildegarde. 
"  We  kept  the  lead,  didn't  we,  Mr.  Merry- 
weather  ?  And  I  kept  the  top  of  my  head  on, 
which  is  more  than  could  have  been  expected. 
I  really  never  felt  anything  so  delightful  in  my 
life.  Where  are  Jack  and  Gerald  ?  " 

"  There  they  come  !  They  went  round  the  other 
way,  down  the  steep  side." 

"  The  steep  side  !  Oh,  me !  Is  there  a  steeper 
side  ?  Why,  they  must  have  turned  somersaults 
all  the  way  down.  Oh  !  oh,  my  poor  dears  !  " 

The  boys  came  round  the  curve  in  fine  style, 
shooting  straight  as  a  dart,  both  leaning  back, 
and  evidently  enjoying  themselves  to  the  full. 


MERRY   CHRISTMAS.  251 

Suddenly,  as  if  propelled  by  some  invisible 
engine,  they  shot  into  the  air,  the  toboggan 
followed,  and  for  a  moment  there  was  an  ex- 
traordinary vision  of  legs  and  arms,  caps  and 
splinters,  all  whirling  together.  Then  they 
plunged  into  an  enormous  drift,  and  disap- 
peared. 

The  girls  cried  out  in  terror,  but  Mr.  Merry- 
weather  and  Phil  shouted  with  laughter,  and 
ran  to  the  spot. 

"  Gone  to  ground !  "  they  cried.  "  Dig  'em 
out,  Phil!"  cried  the  Chief.  "  Here's  a  foot; 
give  a  good  pull,  now !  " 

Phil  gave  a  vigorous  pull,  and  was  rewarded 
by  a  kick  which  sent  him  sprawling  on  his  back 
in  the  snow.  Then,  laughing  and  spluttering, 
the  boys  emerged  from  the  drift,  rubbing  the 
snow  from  their  eyes,  and  shaking  it  from  their 
clothing. 

"  I  say !  "  cried  Jack.  "  What  do  you  keep 
in  this  field,  sir  ?  Was  it  a  torpedo,  or  an  elec- 
tric eel?" 

"  It's  your  uncle's  field,  young  man  !  "  replied 
Mr.  Merryweather.  "I  suspect  it  was  nothing 


252  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

more  than  a  rock,  however.  I  thought  the  hill 
was  all  smooth  grass." 

"  You  might  try  it,  sir  !  "  said  Gerald.  "  If 
there  is  a  sound  bone  in  my  body,  write  me 
down  Hollander.  How  are  you,  Ferrers  ?  Any- 
thing broken  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed !  Lost  a  button,  and  —  where  is 
my  other  mitten  ?  Oh  !  thank  you,  Hilda !  Did 
we  make  a  pretty  picture,  flying  through  the 
air?" 

"  Lovely  !  "  said  Hilda.  "  If  I  had  only  had 
my  camera !  But  I  was  really  frightened.  I 
am  hardly  sure  now  that  you  are  not  killed, 
you  did  go  so  very  hard!" 

"  The  toboggan  is  killed !  "  said  Gerald,  rue- 
fully. "  Kindling-wood,  poor  old  thing  !  Just 
look  at  it !  "  He  dragged  to  light  some  forlorn 
remnants,  which  certainly  did  not  look  as  if 
they  could  be  of  service  again  save  in  some 
humble  capacity. 

"Too  bad!"  said  his  father.  "Fortune  of 
war,  my  boy !  But  there  is  plenty  of  room  for 
you  and  Ferrers  on  the  two  others.  We  must 
see  about  this  stone,  and  get  it  out  of  the  way." 


MERRY   CHRISTMAS.  253 

Search  revealed  a  big,  jagged  stone,  so  fitted 
into  the  slope  of  the  hill  that  the  snow  had  lain 
smoothly  over  it ;  but  it  had  caught  the  tobog- 
gan in  mid-flight.  It  was  soon  torn  from  its 
bed,  rolled  down  the  hill,  and  deposited  on 
the  other  side  of  the  wall.  Then  they  all 
climbed  the  hill  again,  trying  as  they  went 
to  sing  the  Tobogganing  Song  ;  failing  for 
lack  of  breath,  panting,  singing  again,  and 
all  sthe  while  struggling  upward,  laughing 
and  chattering  and  pelting  each  other  with 
the  soft  snow. 

"  When  the  field  lies  clear  in  the  moon,  boy, 

And  the  wood  hangs  dark  on  the  hill, 
When  the  long  white  way  shows  never  a  sleigh. 
And  the  sound  of  the  bells  is  still, 

"  Then  hurry,  hurry,  hurry  ! 

And  bring  the  toboggans  along ! 
A  last  <  Never  fear ! '  to  Mother-my-dear, 
Then  off  with  a  shout  and  a  song. 

"  A-tilt  on  the  billowy  slope,  boy, 

Like  a  boat  that  bends  to  the  sea, 
With  the  heart  a-tilt  in  your  breast,  boy, 
And  your  chin  well  down  on  your  knee, 


254  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  Then  over,  over,  over, 

As  the  boat  skims  over  the  main, 
A  plunge  and  a  swoop,  a  gasp  and  a  whoop, 
And  away  o'er  the  glittering  plain ! 

"  The  boat,  and  the  bird,  and  the  breeze,  boy, 

Which  the  poet  is  apt  to  sing, 
Are  old  and  slow  and  clumsy,  I  know, 
By  us  that  have  never  a  wing. 

"  Still  onward,  onward,  onward, 

Till  the  brook  joins  the  meadow  below, 
And  then  with  a  shout,  see  us  tumbling  out, 
To  plunge  in  the  feathery  snow. 

"  Back  now  by  the  side  of  the  hedge,  boy, 

Where  the  roses  in  summer  grow, 
Where  the  snow  lies  deep  o'er  their  winter  sleep, 
Up,  up  the  big  hill  we  go. 

"  And  stumbling,  tumbling,  stumbling, 

Hurrah  !  'tis  the  top  we  gain  ! 
Draw  breath  for  a  minute  before  you  begin  it  — 
Now  over,  and  over  again  !  " 

"How  are  you,  noble  Hetman?"  said  Hilde- 
garde,  finding  herself  near  Gerald,  as  they  gained 
the  top  of  the  hill.  "  Aren't  you  all  full  of  snow, 
my  poors,  and  very  cold  and  wet  ?  " 

" '  Oh,  days  of  me  boyhood,  I'm  dreamin'  of  ye 


MERRY   CHRISTMAS.  255 

now  ! '  "  quoted  Gerald.     "  I  never  thought  that 
my  mother's  words   would   come   true   in   my 

person : 

"  <  Woffsky-poffsky,  Woffsky-poffsky, 
Once  he  was  a  Cossack  hetman  ; 
But  he  fell  into  the  Dnieper, 

And  became  a  Cossack  wetman.' 

"  And  to  speak  sooth,  sweet  chuck,  there  may 
be  a  matter  of  half  a  bushel  of  snow  —  if  you 
measure  it  by  bushels,  —  it's  a  matter  of  fancy 
-down  my  manly  back  at  this  moment." 

"  Oh,  Gerald  !  But  do  go  home,  my  dear,  and 
change  your  things !  You  will  get  your  death 
of  cold,  if  you  go  about  in  this  state." 

"I'll  move  into  the  adjoining  territory  at 
once !  "  said  Gerald.  "  But  calm  yourself,  an- 
gelic being !  Consider  that  in  this  manner  I 
avoid  all  danger  of  sunstroke !  Every  man  his 
own  refrigerator ;  patent  applied  for ;  no  Irish 
need  apply." 

"  What  is  the  use  of  talking  to  people  like 
this  !  "  cried  Hildegarde.  "  Jack,  are  you  as  wet 
as  that  ?  Because  if  you  are,  —  " 

"  As  wet  as  what  ?  "  said  Jack.     "  I  am  not, 


256  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

anyhow,  if  you  are  going  to  look  at  me  in  that 
way.  Just  wet  enough  to  cool  me  off  delight- 
fully;  very  sultry  to-day,  don't  you  think  so  ?" 

"  Mr.  Merryweather,"  cried  Hildegarde.  "  Will 
you  use  your  authority,  please,  and  try  to  get 
some  sense  out  of  these  boys  ?  They  are  both 
wet  through  to  the  skin,  and  they  will  not  —  " 

"  Wet,  are  they  ? "  said  the  Chief,  cheerily. 
"  Best  thing  in  the  world  for  'em,  my  dear ! 
Quicken  the  circulation,  and  keep  the  pores  open. 
Now  then,  boys  and  girls,  we  must  pack  closer 
this  time.  Sit  close,  Kitty !  Hilda,  hold  tight, 
my  dear !  All  ready  ?  Now,  one,  two,  three, 
and  off  we  go ! " 

And  off  they  went. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

BELLEROPHON. 

"  ALL  ready,  boys  ?  "  asked  the  Colonel. 

"  All  ready ! "  responded  the  boys,  namely, 
Raymond  Ferrers,  aged  sixty,  Jack  Ferrers,  aged 
twenty,  and  Hugh  Allen,  aged  nine.  Barring 
more  or  less  difference  in  height,  and  a  trifle  of 
gray  hair  in  one  case,  they  all  appeared  of  much 
the  same  age ;  nor  had  the  Colonel,  evidently, 
a  day  the  advantage  of  them.  On  the  contrary, 
he  was  the  youngest  of  the  four,  as  he  walked 
round  and  round  the  Christmas  Tree,  poking 
among  the  branches,  readjusting  a  string  of  pop- 
corn here,  or  a  glittering  ornament  there.  It 
was  their  own  tree,  every  twig,  every  needle  of 
it  their  own.  Not  Hildegarde  herself,  nor  her 
mother,  nor  any  Merryweather,  had  had  a  word 
to  say,  or  knew  a  single  detail  about  it.  They 
were  invited,  —  they  were  coming;  that  was 


258  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

their  part ;  all  the  rest  had  belonged  to  the  four 
boys.  Had  they  not  gone  in  town  together,  and 
gone  to  Schwartz's,  and  bought  out  the  greater 
part  of  the  shop  ?  And  had  they  not  spent  the 
greater  part  of  the  day  (save  dinner-time,  and 
church-time,  and  the  hour  that  Jack  had  taken 
for  tobogganing)  in  decorating  their  plaything, 
and  tying  on  the  presents  ?  Surely,  such  a  tree 
had  never  been  seen !  It  glittered  from  top  to 
toe  with  icicles ;  it  shone  with  globes  of  gold 
and  silver ;  it  was  powdered  with  diamond  snow, 
and  hung  with  golden  nuts ;  silver  cobwebs 
draped  it,  hanging  in  long  festoons  from  every 
bough,  while  round  and  round,  in  graceful  fes- 
toons, went  the  long  garlands  of  snowy  pop-corn. 
Now  nothing  was  left  to  do,  save  to  light  the 
candles  ;  and  still  the  Colonel  walked  and  looked, 
puffing  with  pleasure,  and  still  Brother  Raymond 
followed  at  his  heels,  and  Jack  followed  Ray- 
mond, and  Hugh  kept  close  behind  Jack.  And 
Elizabeth  Beadle,  surveying  this  scene  from  the 
depth  of  the  hall,  was  so  moved  by  it  that  she 
retired  to  the  kitchen  and  wept  for  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  for  pure  joy. 


BELLEROPHON.  259 

"  Sure  you  have  the  pail  of   water  handy, 
Jack  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  quite  sure !     Stepped  into  it  just 


now." 


"  Then  you  had  it  footy,  not  handy !  "  mur- 
mured Hugh.  His  guardian  turned,  and  looked 
anxiously  at  the  Boy. 

"Hum,  ha!"  he  said.  "Talk  a  little  non- 
sense, eh,  Young  Sir  ?  That's  right !  Feel 
quite  well  this  evening,  hey  ? " 

Hugh  certainly  did  not  look  well.  His  rosy 
colour  was  gone,  and  there  were  dark  circles 
under  his  blue  eyes ;  but  he  answered  so  brightly, 
and  was  so  full  of  joy  and  delightful  anticipa- 
tion, that  Colonel  Ferrers  smiled  even  as  he 
sighed,  and  turned  to  his  brother. 

"  Pretty  sight,  Raymond  ?  "  he  said,  for  per- 
haps the  twentieth  time.  "  Pretty  custom,  eh  ? 
Give  you  my  word,  sir,  I  haven't  enjoyed  any- 
thing so  much  for  years." 

"  If  you  go  on  at  this  rate,  Tom,"  rejoined  his 
brother,  "you  will  be  in  short  jackets  again 
in  a  year  or  two.  After  all,  what  is  there  in 
the  world  so  good  as  youth,  my  dear  fellow  ? 


260  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Let   us    hold   it   fast,    say   I,   as   long   as    we 


can ! 


"Yes!"  growled  the  Colonel.  "But  you 
wouldn't  have  said  that  before  you  came  here, 
Raymond  Ferrers ;  and  I  shouldn't  have  said  it 
before  Hildegarde  Grahame  came  here,  —  " 

"  And  her  mother !  "  put  in  Raymond. 

"  And  her  mother,  of  course  !  "  cried  the  Colo- 
nel, testily.  "  She  never  thought  of  coming  here 
without  her  mother,  did  she  ?  Don't  be  a  quib- 
bler,  my  good  fellow !  t  If  there  is  one  thing  I 
find  it  difficult  to  have  Christian  patience  with, 
it  is  a  quibbler.  I  tell  you,  sir,  that  before  those 
people  came  here  my  life  was  a  stagnant  fish- 
pond, sir ;  with  no  fish  in  it,  either,  and  —  and 
it  shows  what  a  young  woman  can  do,  sir,  when 
she  is  willing  just  to  be  a  young  woman,  and  to 
minister  cheerfulness  and  joy  and  —  and  affec- 
tion to  the  people  around  her.  Three  years  ago 
I  had  not  a  friend  in  the  world,  —  or  thought  I 
had  not,  which  amounts  to  the  same  thing,  — 
except  a  round-shouldered  fiddle-maker  in  an- 
other State,  whom  I  never  expected  to  see  again. 
I  was  morose,  sir !  I  was  unfit  for  human  com- 


BELLEROPHON.  261 

panionship!  And  now-  '  the  Colonel  stopped 
to  wipe  his  eye-glasses,  and  blew  his  nose  porten- 
tously — "  now  I  have  a  son  in  my  own  house, 
-two  sons  just  now,  for  if  you  pretend  that 
Jack  is  more  your  son  than  mine,  I  scoff  at 
you,  sir,  and  I  deride  you!  —  and  a  daughter 
close  by,  who  will  come  to  me  •  if  my  little 
finger  aches.  And  to  that  daughter,  sir,- 
under  Providence,"  and  the  Colonel  bowed  his 
head  and  dropped  his  voice,  —  "  to  Hildegarde 
Grahame,  I  owe  all  this,  and  more.  So  I 
say,-" 

"  Here  they  come  !  "  cried  Hugh,  who  had  been 
watching  from  the  window.  "  Here  they  all 
come,  Guardian  !  My  Beloved  and  her  mother, 
and  after  them  all  the  others.  Oh !  but  Captain 
Roger  is  not  with  them  !  " 

The  four  hosts  hurried  out  into  the  hall  to 
meet  their  guests,  and  many  and  warm  were 
the  greetings.  Hildegarde  in  white,  Bell  in 
pink,  and  Gertrude  in  blue,  looked  like  a  posy 
of  fresh  flowers,  and  Kitty  like  the  little  rose- 
bud she  was.  Mrs.  Merry  weather  and  Mrs. 
Grahame  were  already  taking  off  their  wraps, 


262  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

and  Miles  Merryweather  and  Phil  brought  up 
the  rear,  with  Willy. 

"Where's  the  Professor?"  cried  the  hospit- 
able Colonel,  rubbing  his  hands.  "  Where  is 
Professor  Roger?  I  was  definitely  promised 
that  he  would  be  here." 

Where  was  Roger  ?  Hildegarde's  heart  echoed 
the  question ;  and  though  she  greeted  the  Colo- 
nel with  her  own  bright  smile,  it  was  rather  an 
effort  to  be  as  gay  as  usual ;  for  the  disappoint- 
ment had  been  severe.  Roger  had  telegraphed 
that  he  would  be  with  them  that  afternoon  with- 
out fail ;  and  now  all  the  trains  had  come  and 
gone,  and  no  Roger  had  come.  All  the  Merry- 
weathers  were  crying  out,  and  saying  that  some 
tiresome  man  of  science  must  have  captured  him, 
and  carried  him  off.  Hildegarde  was  only  a 
little  more  silent  than  usual ;  she  slipped  quietly 
into  the  drawing-room,  and  took  her  seat  by  Mr. 
Raymond  Ferrers,  whose  smile  always  seemed 
like  a  kind  of  sublimated  music,  —  music  that 
soothed  while  it  cheered.  But  when  she  saw 
her  little  Hugh,  with  his  pale  face,  and  the  suf- 
fering look  in  his  dear  blue  eyes,  she  reproached 


BELLEROPHON.  263 

herself  for  a  selfish,  unloving  girl,  and  went  and 
sat  with  her  arm  round  the  child,  looking  affec- 
tionately and  anxiously  at  him,  and  listening  to 
his  story  of  the  joy  of  the  blessed  day. 

"  And  Gerald  ?"  now  cried  the  Colonel.  "  Am 
I  to  be  robbed  of  half  my  guests,  I  ask  you? 
Mrs.  Merry  weather,  my  dear  madam,  this  is 
positively  unfriendly,  I  must  inform  you.  A 
Christmas  Tree  without  Gerald  Merryweather, 
—  the  idea  is  incongruous  !  I  can  say  nothing 


more." 


"  Oh,  Colonel  Ferrers,  that  is  my  fault ! " 
cried  Hildegarde.  "  Gerald  will  be  here  in  a 
moment ;  he  ought  to  be  here  now,  indeed.  I 
very  carelessly  forgot  something,  —  a  little  par- 
cel that  I  wanted  to  bring, — and  Gerald  was 
so  kind  as  to  go  back  for  it." 

"  Quite  right,  my  child ! "  said  the  Colonel. 
"  Of  course  you  sent  him !  Preposterous  if  you 
had  done  anything  else."  He  bustled  off,  and 
Hildegarde  turned  to  look  out  of  the  window ; 
for  truth  to  tell,  the  parcel  that  she  had  left 
behind  contained  a  little  gift  for  the  Colonel 
himself  (it  was  a  copy  of  "Underwoods."  Hil- 


264  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

degarde  would  have  given  copies  of  "Under- 
woods "  to  all  her  friends,  if  she  could  have 
afforded  it),  and  she  wanted  to  catch  the  first 
glimpse  of  Gerald.  How  long  he  was  in  com- 
ing !  They  were  lighting  the  candles,  Hugh 
whispered  her ;  Jack  and  Mr.  Raymond  Ferrers 
and  Mr.  Merry  weather  were  to  light  them  as 
soon  as  the  party  was  assembled.  Gerald  was 
wanted  to  take  the  second  tenor  in  the  carol. 
Why  had  she  been  so  careless  ?  Ah !  there  he 
was  at  last ! 

Hildegarde  ran  out  to  the  porch,  to  receive 
the  precious  parcel. 

"Oh,"  she  cried,  "how  long  you  have  been, 
child  !  I  thought  you  would  never  come  !  " 

"  So  did  I,"  said  a  voice  that  certainly  did 
not  belong  to  Gerald,  "  but  that  is  no  reason 
why  you  should  be  out  here  with  nothing  on 
your  head,  and  the  thermometer  at  zero." 

Hildegarde  felt  her  two  hands  grasped,  and 
herself  drawn  firmly  back  into  the  house. 

"  They  do  not  take  proper  care  of  you !  "  said 
Roger.  "  And  are  you  glad  to  see  me,  Hilda  ?" 

Everything  seemed  misty  to  Hildegarde  after 


BELLEROPHON.  265 

that.  She  heard  the  welcomes  and  rejoicings ; 
heard  Gerald's  voice  of  panting  apology, — 
"  Couldn't  keep  up  with  the  Codger,  you  know  ! 
Couldn't,  'pon  my  word,  he  was  in  such  a 
hurry!" — and  received  the  Colonel's  book  in 
time  to  tie  it  on  the  tree.  She  took  her  part 
in  the  carol,  too,  and  wondered  that  her  voice 
should  be  so  strong,  and  not  tremble,  as  the  rest 
of  her  seemed  to  be  trembling.  Yes,  and  she 
saw  the  glorious  Tree,  in  all  its  splendour,  and 
helped  untie  the  presents,  and  sat  with  her  lap 
full  of  pretty  things,  sharing  the  wild  delight 
of  Will  and  Kitty,  and  the  quieter  raptures  of 
Hugh. 

Yes,  the  lion  was  truly  splendid ;  she  had 
never  heard  such  a  roar,  or  seen  such  a  mane. 
She  should  really  be  afraid  to  come  to  Pumpkin 
House,  if  she  would  be  in  danger  of  meeting 
him  on  the  stairs.  And  Hugh's  fleet  was  a 
joy,  and,  —  yes,  certainly  they  would  go  sailing 
together ;  and  they'd  go  to  the  Dee,  and  the 
Jellybolee,  over  the  land  and  over  the  sea  — 

And  all  the  time,  the  girl  felt  that  she  was  in 
a  dream,  in  which  the  only  real  thing  was  the 


266  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

tall,  broad-shouldered  figure  that  moved  so  lightly 
and  cheerfully  among  the  rest;  was  the  deep, 
sweet  voice  that  was  talking,  explaining,  parry- 
ing, the  attack  of  the  Colonel  and  all  his  own 
family  ? 

"Well,  but  it  is  true,  my  dear  Miranda.  I 
could  not  have  helped  it ;  really  I  could  not. 
No,  I  dined  with  no  other  friends.  I  dined  on 
a  cold  sausage,  at  a  railway  restaurant.  I  have 
travelled  day  and  night  to  get  here,  and  I  do 
not  mean  to  be  abused  for  my  efforts.  There 
was  a  railway  accident,  — " 

"  An  accident !  Oh,  Roger !  are  you  hurt  ? 
Where  are  you  hurt  ?  How  did  it  happen  ? 
Tell  us  all  about  it  ?  Whose  fault  was  it  ?  Was 
any  one  killed  ?  " 

Thus  the  Merryweathers  in  chorus,  with  Colo- 
nel Ferrers  thundering  a  bass.  Roger  Merry- 
weather  looked  from  one  to  the  other  ;  his  eyes 
twinkled,  but  he  was  silent. 

"  Well,  sir  ? "  cried  his  brother  Miles,  in  a 
fine  baritone  solo. 

"Well,  sir!"  retorted  Roger.  "I  thought 
you  were  all  doing  it  so  beautifully,  it  was  a 


BELLEROPHON.  267 

pity  to  interrupt.  No,  —  no  one  was  hurt.  A 
freight  train  broke  down,  and  blocked  all  the 
trains  on  the  road.  The  delay  was  apparently 
endless ;  there  seemed  no  particular  reason  why 
we  should  ever  go  on.  Finally,  I  ran  ahead, 
and  found  the  engineer  of  the  night  express, 
the  first  train  in  the  block,  fighting  mad,  and 
vowing  that  he  would  plough  his  way  through 
the  freight  train,  if  they  didn't  get  it  out  of 
the  road  in  five  minutes.  A  lot  of  us  took 
hold  in  good  earnest,  and  in  ten  minutes  the 
track  was  free.  Then  the  express  driver  found 
that  his  fireman  was  hurt,  —  I  forgot  him ! 
He  was  really  the  only  one,  —  and  he  was 
madder  than  ever,  and  said  he  could  not  go 
on  without  a  fireman.  So  I  said  I  was  his 
fireman,  and  his  long-lost  uncle  besides ;  and  I 
jumped  on,  and  off  we  went.  It  was  an  exhil- 
arating ride.  We  were  an  hour  late,  and  we 
made  up  half  of  it;  but  that  did  not  let  me 
make  my  connections.  Finally,  here  am  I ;  the 
question  is,  are  you  glad  to  see  me,  or  shall  I  go 
back  ?  " 

Well,    there    seemed   little   doubt   that  they 


268  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

were  glad  to  see  him.  It  seemed  to  Hildegarde, 
still  sitting  in  her  corner,  with  Hugh's  hand  in 
hers,  as  if  the  other  children  would  fairly  devour 
him ;  and  the  elders  were  not  much  better. 
Miles  must  hear  all  about  the  mines,  and  piled 
question  upon  question  till  his  brother  cried  for 
mercy.  Will  and  Kitty  hung  about  his  neck, 
Bell  and  Gertrude  could  hardly  take  their  eyes 
off  him.  Only  Gerald,  after  the  first  moment, 
came  and  sat  by  Hildegarde,  and  asked  if  he 
should  not  take  Hugh,  and  if  she  did  not  want 
to  go  and  join  the  others. 

"  No ! "  cried  Hildegarde.  "  Go  yourself,  Jerry, 
and  hear  all  about  it.  I  —  I  shall  hear  it  all 
another  time." 

."  I  met  him,  you  see  !  "  said  Gerald,  guiltily. 
"  I  heard  it  all  as  —  as  we  came  from  the  other 
house.  We  came  along  together,  and  then  he  — 
he  got  ahead  of  me  somehow,  and  came  in 
first." 

Hildegarde  heard  him,  but  only  half  under- 
stood what  he  said.  Now,  however,  there  came 
a  change  in  the  boy's  voice,  and  he  rose  hastily. 

"I  —  I  think  I  will  go,  Hilda,  if  you  really 


BELLEROPHON.  269 

don't  mind,  —  if  you  will  excuse  me.  I  think 
Phil  wants  me  for  something  — " 

He  vanished,  and  Hildegarde  turned  to  find 
Roger  at  her  elbow. 

"  I  have  a  little  gift  for  you,"  he  was  saying. 
"I  —  I  won't  give  it  to  you  to-night,  I  think, 
but  bring  it  to-morrow,  if  I  may.  It  is  some- 
thing I  made  myself,  and  I  am  rather  proud  of 
it.  May  I  come  to-morrow  morning  ?  Oh,  it  is 
good  to  be  at  home  again !  Good  to  see  what 
one  has  been  dreaming  about  for  all  these  —  " 

"  Supper  !  supper  !  "  cried  the  Colonel,  rub- 
bing his  hands.  "  Come,  young  folks  !  the  tree 
is  stripped,  and  now  for  an  honest,  old-fashioned 
supper.  None  of  your  kickshaws  and  folderols  ! 
No  flummery,  that  leaves  a  man  tired  and  hun- 
gry when  he  leaves  the  table.  Food,  my  dear 
madam,  is  one  of  the  blessings  —  what  was  it 
this  Boy  said  about  food  the  other  day,  Ray- 
mond ?  Hugh,  you  understand,  Mrs.  Grahame  ; 
more  and  more  astonishing  that  child  grows,  as 
he  grows  older.  He  was  disappointed  the  other 
day, — Hildegarde  could  not  come  as  he  expected, 
or  something  happened,  —  hum,  ha!  And  he 


270  HTLDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

was  distressed;  a  good  deal  distressed.  Then 
he  ate  his  supper,  —  ate  it  like  a  man,  and  I 
told  him  so,  sir,  and  congratulated  him  on  keep- 
ing his  appetite.  He  looks  up  at  me,  and  says 
he,  '  Food  stops  sorrow  ! '  His  very  expression, 
give  you  my  word !  Food  stops  sorrow !  Ha, 
ha !  so  it  does,  my  dear  madam,  so  it  does ! 
This  way,  if  you  please !  Hildegarde,  my  child, 
you  will  bring  the  Boy  ?  He  is  —  hum,  ha !  — 
not  quite  up  to  concert  pitch  to-night.  Nothing 
much  the  matter,  —  growing  boys,  eh,  Mrs.  Gra- 
hame  ?  Come  on,  all  hands  ! " 

Well,  the  supper  was  great,  and  the  games 
were  glorious.  Hildegarde  did  her  very  best  to 
appear  just  as  usual,  and,  indeed,  no  one  who 
had  seen  her  flying  down  the  long  drawing-room 
in  the  Virginia  reel  (the  Colonel  had  engaged 
her  for  it  a  month  before)  would  have  thought 
her  anything  but  the  gayest  of  the  gay ;  but, 
happy  though  she  was,  the  world  still  seemed 
misty,  the  rooms  confused,  the  talk  mere  babble ; 
and  she  was  glad,  for  once,  when  the  frolic  was 
over,  and  the  greetings  said,  and  she  was  at 
home  once  more,  in  her  own  quiet  room. 


BELLEROPHON.  271 

There  was  a  cosy  little  fire  burning  on  the 
hearth,  and  late  though  it  was,  Hildegarde  was 
in  no  mood  for  going  to  bed.  She  sat  down  by 
the  window  and  looked  out.  The  snow  lay  clear 
and  white  in  the  moonlight ;  here  and  there  the 
dark  evergreens  rose  like  steadfast  guardians; 
all  was  peaceful  and  lovely.  Lovely !  How 
brown  and  handsome  he  looked!  And  had  he 
really  been  glad  to  see  her  ?  She  thought  so ; 
yes,  surely  he  was  glad,  only  somebody  inter- 
rupted him  every  time  he  came  near  her.  Of 
course,  selfish  creature  that  she  was !  They 
were  his  own  dear  people,  he  was  theirs ;  he 
belonged  to  them.  They  had  not  seen  him  for 
months,  and  how  preposterous  of  her  to  expect 
to  have  any  of  his  time  the  very  first  evening. 
Besides,  he  said  particularly  that  he  was  coming 
in  the  morning.  Would  the  day  be  fair  ?  But 
men  did  not  mind  weather,  certainly  not  the 
Merryweather  men.  And  —  and  her  mother 
would  be  so  glad  to  have  a  good  talk  with 
him. 

Were  they  all  asleep  now,  the  good,  merry 
neighbours?  They  made  a  good  deal  of  noise 


272  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

sometimes,  but  they  all  meant  so  well,  and  were 
so  hearty  and  genuine.  Gerald  was  the  most 
like  Roger,  after  all;  she  had  never  noticed 
before  how  much  alike  they  were.  Dear  Jerry ! 
He  had  always  been  her  favourite,  though  Phil 
was  as  nice  as  he  could  be,  and,  of  course,  she 
was  very,  very  fond  of  Bell,  and  all  of  them. 
How  perfectly  clear  and  still  it  was !  Silver 
and  pearl  and  diamond,  —  oh,  what  beauty ! 

"  Deep  on  the  convent  roof  the  snows 
Are  sparkling  to  the  moon." 

She  wondered  if  her  white  dress  was  really 
the  one  she  should  have  worn,  or  whether  — 
whether  any  one  would  have  thought  the  pink 
one  prettier.  No ;  he  always  liked  white ;  she 
remembered  his  saying  so.  There  was  a  light 
in  the  corner  room  of  Pumpkin  House;  ah, 
yes !  it  was  Roger's  room.  Such  a  funny  room, 
all  full  of  minerals  and  dried  specimens,  and 
with  lengths  of  copper  wire  hanging  all  about 
the  walls.  Jerry  said  that  Roger  had  put  them 
there  against  the  time  he  should  be  crossed  in 
love,  so  that  he  could  hang  himself  whenever  he 


BELLEROPHON.  273 

felt  like  it.  What  was  it  he  had  brought  for  her  ? 
A  specimen,  probably.  No  !  for  he  had  made  it 
himself.  What  was  he  doing  now,  she  wondered. 
Oh,  it  was  so  good,  so  good,  to  know  that  he 
was  near,  and  that  she  should  see  him  in  the 
morning ! 

"  But  now,"  said  Hildegarde,  shaking  her 
shoulders,  and  pulling  herself  together,  "you 
are  going  to  bed,  miss !  Let  me  have  no  more 
of  this  ridiculous  ^icon-gazing,  do  you  hear? 
Have  you  any  sense  ?  Take  one  look  at  the 
white  glory  of  it,  and  then  off  with  you ! " 

Wrapping  a  shawl  round  her  (for  she  was  still 
in  her  white  evening  dress,  though  it  was  an 
hour  and  more  since  she  came  back  from  Rose- 
holme),  she  opened  the  window  for  an  instant,  — 
softly,  for  fear  of  rousing  her  mother,  and  leaned 
out,  to  take  one  deep  draught  of  the  magical 
beauty  of  the  night.  As  she  gazed,  held  as  with 
a  charm,  —  what  was  that,  that  seemed  to  move 
by  the  corner  of  the  hedge  ?  What  was  it,  white 
against  the  snow,  that  was  stealing  along  by  the 
garden  wall,  silent  as  a  dream  ?  Was  she,  indeed, 
dreaming  ?  Hildegarde' s  heart  stood  still  for  a 


274  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

moment.  A  little  figure  came  forward  now 
across  the  lawn,  —  it  stood  out  clear  against  the 
dark  firs.  Good  heavens  !  It  was  little  Hugh ! 
Barefoot,  in  his  white  nightgown,  his  head  held 
high,  his  eyes  gazing  straight  forward,  the  child 
came  on,  with  swift,  certain  steps.  One  more 
glance  told  Hildegarde  the  truth ;  he  was  walk- 
ing in  his  sleep. 

In  a  flash  she  had  stolen  down  the  stairs,  only 
stopping  to  snatch  a  warm  cloak  from  the  hall 
as  she  went.  The  bar  and  chain  delayed  her, 
for  she  dared  not  strike  a  match,  —  her  mother's 
light  sleep  was  too  precious,  —  still,  it  seemed 
only  an  instant  before  she  was  on  the  lawn, 
gazing  wildly  about  her.  The  child  was  gone ! 
An  instant  she  stood  undecided ;  was  it  possible 
that  the  whole  had  been  a  vision,  a  hallucination, 
brought  on  by  excitement  and  fatigue  ?  No ! 
For  here  were  the  little  footprints  in  the 
snow. 

Oh,  the  little,  tender  feet,  stung  by  the  bitter 
cold  !  How  was  it  possible  that  the  touch  of 
the  snow  had  not  waked  him  ?  But  here  was 
her  clue ;  in  another  moment,  surely,  she 


"  A    LITTLE    FIGURE    .    .    .    STOOD    OUT    CLEAR    AGAINST 
THE    DARK    FIRS." 


BELLEROPHON.  275 

should  have  him  in  her  arms.  Breathless  and 
panting,  Hildegarde  ran  round  the  corner  of 
the  house,  following  those  little  white  tracks  — 
and  stopped.  The  footsteps  broke  off  short. 
Looking  up,  bewildered,  she  uttered  a  low  cry 
of  terror.  Hugh  was  climbing  up  the  wall. 
This  part  of  the  house  was  -low,  a  kind  of  shed 
or  outhouse,  seldom  used.  It  was  easy  climbing 
enough,  a  window-sill  here,  a  cornice  there,  and 
a  spout  that  ran  the  whole  way  up  to  the  shin- 
gled roof.  Hildegarde  had  climbed  it  herself,  in 
pursuit  of  a  runaway  kitten ;  if  the  child  would 
only  stop  at  the  shed  roof  she  could  easily  fol- 
low him.  But  above  rose  the  steep-pitched 
upper  roof !  What  should  she  do  if  he  went  on  ? 
What  should  she  do  ?  She  dared  not  call,  for 
now  the  little  figure,  steadily  climbing  upward, 
stood  on  the  shed  roof  ;  hesitated  a  moment, 
turned  half  towards  her,  — then  turned  back,  and 
set  his  foot  on  the  short  ladder  that  led  to  the 
upper  roof.  Instantly  Hildegarde's  knee  was  on 
the  first  low  window-sill.  She  was  reaching  up, 
on  the  point  of  raising  herself  to  her  feet,  when 
she  started  violently,  and  nearly  lost  her  bal- 


276  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

ance.  A  hand  was  laid  on  her  shoulder  ;  a  steady, 
restraining  hand. 

"  What  upon  earth  does  this  mean  ? "  asked 
Roger  Merryweather. 

His  voice  was  stern,  or  Hildegarde  fancied  it 
so ;  she  answered  like  a  child : 

"  I  am  going  after  Hugh!  " 

"Going  after—  began  Roger,  stupefied. 
Then  following  her  upward  gesture,  he  broke 
off  short. 

"  Go  into  the  house,  my  child ! "  he  said, 
quickly,  in  his  own  kind  tone.  "Go  at  once ; 
you  must  not  stay  out  another  moment  in  this 
thin  dress.  I  will  bring  him  to  you  in  the  house. 
It  will  be  only  a  minute  now,  and  he  will  be 
quite  safe." 

With  that  he  was  up  like  a  cat,  clinging  here, 
springing  there,  never  pausing,  never  seeming  to 
take  his  eyes  from  the  little  white  figure,  which 
had  now  reached  the  summit  of  the  steep-pitched 
roof.  Hildegarde  gave  one  glance  at  the  child, 
and  saw  him  standing  with  outstretched  arm* 
on  the  ridge-pole  itself.  His  voice  came  down, 
clear  and  calm. 


BELLEROPHON.  277 

"  I  am  ready,  dear  Bellerophon !  We  will  fly 
together  now,  down,  down, —  " 

The  girl  covered  her  face,  and  prayed.  It 
was  a  breath  of  time,  it  was  eternity,  before 
Roger's  voice  came  down  to  her,  strong  and 
cheerful. 

"  We  will  go  down  together,  Hughie.'  I  was 
up  here,  too,  and  I  will  take  you  down,  because 
you  will  be  more  comfortable  that  way.  Put 
your  arms  round  my  neck,  so  !  Hold  on  tight 
—  that's  right !  Now,  down  we  go!  " 

Hildegarde  stood  still  in  the  snow,  her  hands 
still  clutching  the  window-sill.  She  seemed  in- 
capable of  speech  or  motion ;  could  only  listen 
to  the  quiet,  steady  voice,  as  it  soothed  the  now 
awake  and  frightened  child. 

"  Why,  I  suppose  you  went  up  to  get  a  ball, 
or  something  that  had  been  thrown  up  there. 
Eh?  No?  Something  about  Bellerophon? 
Where  is  he?  Well,  he  may  be  in  the  house, 
laddie.  We'll  go  in  and  see,  anyhow.  Your 
Beloved  is  there,  you  know,  and  she  will  be  — 
Hildegarde  !  " 

"  Yes,  Roger  !  "  said  Hildegarde,  faintly. 


278  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

"  I  told  you  to  go  into  the  house !  " 
"  Yes,  Roger ;  I  am  going  !  "     And  then  Hil- 
degarde  sank  down  in  a  little  white  heap  at 
Roger's  feet,  and  knew  nothing  more. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

AT   LAST. 

HILDEGARDE  was  sitting  by  Hugh's  bedside. 
He  had  been  laid  in  her  bed  that  night;  how 
long  ago  was  it  ?  She  hardly  knew,  —  and  was 
still  too  ill  to  be  moved.  A  concussion  of  the 
brain,  the  doctor  said,  the  result  of  his  fall  on 
the  ice.  There  was  danger  of  brain  fever,  but 
it  might  be  averted.  Absolute  quiet  for  a  few 
days,  and  the  trouble  might  pass  off  without 
any  serious  developments.  Meantime,  a  shaded 
room,  plenty  of  ice,  no  noise,  and  as  little  change 
of  faces  around  him  as  might  be,  —  they  would 
hope  for  the  best. 

Hildegarde  had  hardly  left  his  side,  save 
when  Auntie  came  in  to  watch  through  the 
night,  or  her  mother  took  her  place  for  the  short 
time  that  her  strength  allowed.  Mrs.  Grahame 
was  far  from  strong,  and  was  not  allowed  to 
take  charge  of  the  nursing,  as  she  would  so 


280  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

gladly  have  done.  Colonel  Ferrers  hung  about 
the  house  all  day,  like  a  man  distracted ;  and 
it  took  all  Mrs.  Grahame's  tact,  and  all  his 
brother's  and  Jack's  watchful  devotion,  to  keep 
him  out  of  the  sick  child's  room.  He  seemed  to 
have  aged  ten  years  in  these  few  short  days. 
His  ruddy  colour  was  gone ;  his  eyes  had  lost 
their  fiery  spark ;  his  military  stride  had  given 
place  to  an  anxious  shuffle. 

"We  shall  have  you  ill,  sir!"  Elizabeth 
Beadle  remonstrated,  with  many  tears. 

"  You  ain't  like  Mr.  Raymond,  sir ;  you  can- 
not go  without  your  food.  It's  hard  enough  as 
I  can't  go  to  my  baby,  my  own  dear  niece's 
child,  to  nurse  him  myself,  as  go  I  would  if  I 
was  let,  though  Miss  Hilda  may  be  a  better 
nurse,  as  you  say;  but  blood  is  thicker  than 
water,  Colonel  Ferrers,  and  if  I  have  to  have 
you  sick,  too,  it  will  be  more  than  I  can  bear, 
sir;  yes,  it  will !  "  Thus  Mrs.  Beadle,  with  her 
apron  at  her  eyes.  The  Colonel,  roused  for  a 
moment  from  his  anxious  musing,  turned  upon 
her  with  something  like  his  natural  fury. 

"You   go   to   the   child,    Elizabeth    Beadle? 


AT   LAST.  281 

You,  who  cannot  keep  from  crying  for  ten 
minutes  together  ?  If  you  would  stop  poison- 
ing my  food  with  salt  water,  ma'am,  you  might 
have  less  complaint  to  make  of  my  not  eating. 
You  have  no  more  sense,  ma'am,  —  no  more 
sense  than  —  than  some  other  people  have. 
Don't  look  at  me  in  that  manner,  I  desire  you ! 
God  bless  you,  my  dear  old  soul ;  go  along,  will 
you,  or  I  shall  be  crying,  too." 

Rumours  of  these  things,  and  others  like  them, 
came  to  Hildegarde,  as  she  sat  hour  after  hour 
by  the  sick  child's  side,  shifting  his  pillow  now 
and  then  when  it  grew  hot,  laying  the  cool  wet 
cloths  on  his  forehead,  giving  him  food,  drink, 
medicine,  at  the  appointed  times.  The  whole 
world  seemed  narrowed  down  to  this  one  room ; 
everything  outside  was  unreal,  all  save  the  scene 
in  white  and  black  that  she  saw  whenever  she 
closed  her  eyes,  —  the  moonlight  on  the  snow, 
the  black  firs,  the  child  in  his  white  dress,  front- 
ing death  with  his  sleeping  smile,  and  by  her 
side  the  friend  who  was  to  save  him.  How  long 
ago  was  it  ?  Had  she  been  sitting  here  three 
days,  or  three  weeks  ? 


282  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

Little  Hugh  lay  still,  with  his  eyes  shut.  He 
seemed  unconscious  for  the  most  part.  Only 
now  and  then  came  a  motion  of  the  head,  a  low 
moan  that  was  hardly  more  than  a  whisper; 
then  the  blue-veined  lids  would  lift  heavily  for 
an  instant,  and  the  sweet  eyes  look  out,  but 
with  no  light  in  them ;  and  after  a  moment  the 
lids  would  fall  again  wearily,  and  the  heavy 
sleep  close  round  him  again  like  a  curtain. 
How  long  would  it  last  ? 

More  snow  had  fallen.  She  heard  the  sound 
of  bells,  and  the  soft  swish  of  sleigh-runner? 
passing  swiftly  by.  The  voices  of  her  neigh- 
bours came  to  her,  now  and  then,  but  never 
calling  loud  and  joyous,  as  they  were  wont  to 
do.  Every  sound  was  subdued ;  every  one  moved 
softly  and  spoke  low,  with  the  sick  child  con- 
stantly in  their  thoughts. 

Guests  came  to  Pumpkin  House ;  long-invited 
guests,  who  could  not  well  be  put  off.  Hilde- 
garde  knew  this,  and  knew  that  her  friends 
loved  her  and  the  child  no  less  because  they 
were  now  forced  to  play  the  hosts,  and  to  make 
pleasure  for  the  holiday  visitors.  Was  this  the 


AT   LAST.  283 

evening  of  the  Flower  Party  ?  Her  dress  was 
hanging  ready  in  the  closet.  Such  a  pretty 
dress !  She  was  to  be  a  wild  rose,  and  the 
graceful  pink  petals  curved  over  the  skirt,  and 
curled  upward  to  form  the  bodice. 

What  a  pity  that  some  one  could  not  wear  it ! 
She  might  send  it  over,  in  case  some  one  of  the 
guests  had  no  costume  ready.  Bell  was  to  be 
an  apple-blossom  ;  Gertrude,  a  lily.  The  twins 
would  be  splendid  as  Larkspur  and  Scarlet  Run- 
ner. And  would  Roger  —  would  he  go  in  fancy 
dress  ?  She  could  not  imagine  him  doing  any- 
thing of  the  kind,  somehow.  She  thought  of 
him  in  boating  dress,  or  in  his  camp  jersey 
and  knickerbockers  —  or,  as  she  saw  him  last, 
in  evening  dress,  climbing  over  the  snowy  roofs 
—  she  shuddered,  and  laid  her  hand  on  Hugh's 
arm,  to  make  sure  that  he  was  there.  The 
child  was  safe,  at  any  rate.  He  was  not  going 
to  die.  Hildegarde  kept  this  thought  resolutely 
away  from  her,  and  was  only  conscious  of  it  as 
a  dim  horror,  lurking  in  a  corner  of  her  brain. 
He  would  be  better  soon,  perhaps  in  a  day  or 
two.  It  might  even  be  that  she  would  see  Roger 


284  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

before  he  went  back  to  the  West,  — for  he  would 
be  going  soon,  no  doubt.  He  would  be  sorry, 
she  thought,  to  go  without  seeing  her.  But 
she  had  his  gift ;  he  had  sent  it  to  her  the  day 
after  Christmas.  She  put  her  hand  to  her 
throat,  to  make  sure  it  was  there  —  the  brooch 
that  he  had  made  himself  for  her,  digging 
the  gold,  refining,  hammering,  fashioning  it, 
all  with  his  own  hands.  She  would  never 
wear  any  other  brooch !  Dear  old  Jack,  too. 
He  was  missing  her  from  his  vacation,  she 
knew.  Her  mother  said  that  he  and  Bell 
were  practising  together  every  day,  and  that 
all  the  Merry  weathers  were  delighted  with 
him.  He  and  the  twins  were  becoming  fast 
friends.  But  they  all  missed  her.  They  all 
said  that  there  was  no  luck  about  any  of  the 
houses,  with  Hildegarde  awa'.  The  tears  came 
to  the  girl's  eyes.  Everybody  was  so  good  to 
her,  so  kind,  so  loving ! 

Hugh  moved  uneasily,  and  she  bent  over 
him  ;  his  lips  moved.  "  Play !  "  said  the  child. 

"  Dear !  "  said  Hildegarde,  softly.  "  My  lad- 
die !  Do  you  want  something  ?  " 


AT   LAST.  285 

Hugh  did  not  open  his  eyes,  but  a  smile,  or 
the  shadow  of  a  smile,  hovered  about  his  lips  for 
an  instant. 

"  Play  —  Jack  —  play !  "  he  whispered. 

"Yes,  dear!  He  shall  come.  We  will  send 
for  him  ;  rest  now,  my  boy,  quietly !  " 

But  now,  seeing  her  mother  at  the  door,  Hil- 
degarde  stole  softly  to  her,  and  told  of  the  whis- 
pered words.  "Will  you  ask  the  doctor?  He 
might  —  it  might  —  do  him  good,  if  he  is 
thinking  about  it  ?  You  will  see  what  is  best, 
dear !  " 

Mrs.  Grahame  nodded,  and  went  away.  An 
hour  passed,  as  all  the  others  passed.  Then 
Hildegarde  heard  steps  on  the  veranda ;  the 
door  opened  and  closed  quietly ;  the  next 
moment  the  voice  of  the  violin  came  stealing 
through  the  house.  Ah !  what  was  it  ?  Were 
angels  singing  the  child  to  sleep  ?  Schubert's 
Cradle  Song  ;  there  is  no  sweeter  melody  on 
earth,  and  many  times  had  Jack  played  little 
Hugh  to  sleep  with  it,  in  the  days  before  he 
went  abroad.  Hildegarde  watched  the  child 
intently.  At  the  first  note  of  the  music  he 


286  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

stirred,  and  opened  and  closed  his  hands,  which 
lay  listless  on  the  counterpane.  Then,  as  the 
song  flowed  on,  so  low,  so  tender,  it  seemed  the 
voice  of  a  spirit,  or  of  some  wandering  wind, 
caught  and  trained  to  melody  ;  the  brows  which 
had  been  knitted,  as  if  in  an  effort  to  think, 
relaxed,  a  smile  came  to  the  sweet  lips  and  set- 
tled there  happily. 

"  Schlafe,  schlafe,  siisser,  holder  Knabe  ! 
Leise  wiegt  dich  deiner  Mutter  Hand." 

"  Sing !  "  whispered  Hugh ;  and  Hildegardc 
sang,  her  heart  beating  high  with  joy  and  hope  ; 
for  this  was  the  first  time  she  had  been  sure  of 
his  knowing  her.  She  bent  over  him,  hoping 
for  a  glance  of  recognition ;  but  he  did  not  open 
his  eyes.  His  face  seemed  to  clear  and  lighten 
every  moment ;  it  was  as  if  a  cloud  were  pass- 
ing, and  the  day  shining  out  fair  and  lovely; 
but  he  turned  his  head  drowsily,  and  whispered, 
"  Sleepy!" 

Now  Jack  was  playing  the  Chopin  berceuse, 
and  all  the  world  seemed  lulling  to  sleep ;  the 
sound  floated  in  waves  through  the  darkened 


AT  LAST.  287 

room,  whispering  in  corners,  rippling  round  the 
drowsy  child,  bearing  him  on,  away,  through 
the  gates  of  pearl,  till  now  he  was  asleep,  in 
no  heavy  lethargy  this  time,  but  lying  easily, 
breathing  deeply,  his  whole  little  form  at  rest, 
at  peace.  And  seeing  this,  the  weary  girl  beside 
him  laid  her  head  on  the  child's  pillow,  and 
borne  on  those  waves  of  dreamy  sound,  she,  too, 
passed  through  the  white  gates,  and  slept. 

They  slept  so  all  through  that  night.  Mrs, 
Grahame  and  Auntie,  coming  to  relieve  Hilde- 
garde,  could  not  bear  to  wake  her.  The  doctor  put 
his  head  in  at  the  door,  gazed  for  a  moment,  and 
then  nodded,  and  tiptoed  off  down-stairs  and 
home  to  bed,  wiping  his  eyes  as  he  went.  The 
Colonel  and  Jack,  making  their  last  call  for  the 
night,  heard  the  joyful  report,  and  departed 
treading  on  air.  And  still  they  slept.  The 
black  woman  nodded  in  her  chair  in  the  corner ; 
she  had  put  Mrs.  Grahame  to  bed,  and  returned 
to  watch  the  night  with  her  charge,  all  the  more 
precious  now  that  her  "  own  chile  "  was  sleeping 
beside  him.  Now  and  then  a  coal  fell,  and  tin- 
kled in  the  fireplace ;  the  night  -  light  burned 


288  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

steadily,  but  the  fire  flared,  and  drooped,  and 
leaped  up  again,  filling  the  quiet  room  with 
flitting  lights  and  shadows.  Were  they  spirits, 
bending  over  those  two  fair  heads  on  the  pillow, 
side  by  side  ?  The  angels  might  be  glad  to  come 
a  good  way  to  see  such  a  sight  as  that,  Auntie 
said  to  herself.  And  she  nodded,  and  dreamed 
of  the  Golden  City,  and  woke  again  to  see  always 
the  same  quiet  room,  to  hear  always  the  same 
sweet  breathing  of  peace  and  rest  and  returning 
health. 

It  was  morning  when  Hildegarde  awoke ;  dim, 
early  morning,  with  the  stars  still  shining,  but 
with  a  faint,  pearly  radiance  growing  momently 
stronger  in  the  east.  She  wondered  at  first  what 
was  the  matter,  and  why  she  was  sitting  up  in 
bed,  rather  stiff,  with  soft  things  wrapped  round 
her.  Before  she  moved  her  eyes  fell  on  the  little 
face  beside  her,  and  she  remembered  all,  and 
gave  thanks  to  God  for  his  mercy  before  she 
stirred.  Raising  herself  softly,  she  saw  Auntie 
sitting  in  her*  great  chair,  bolt  upright,  but 
sound  asleep. 

"  Poor  dear !  "  thought  the  girl.     "  She  need 


AT   LAST.  289 

not  have  come  at  all.  We  did  not  need  any- 
thing, Hugh  and  I.  We  have  had  a  good,  good 
rest." 

Beyond  changing  her  position,  and  stretching 
her  limbs,  cramped  by  staying  so  long  in  one 
posture,  she  did  not  move,  but  sat  with  folded 
hands,  full  of  such  happy  thoughts  that  the 
morning  seemed  to  come  on  wings  of  gold. 

The  sun  was  up  before  Auntie  woke,  and 
her  frightened  exclamation,  "  Fo'  gracious  good- 
ness !  ef  I  ain't  be'n  'sleep  myself ! "  though 
hardly  spoken  above  a  whisper,  echoed  sharply 
through  the  silent  room. 

Hugh  opened  his  eyes,  and  his  glance  fell  di- 
rectly on  Hildegarde.  He  smiled,  and  stretched 
out  his  arms. 

"  Beloved,"  he  said,  "  I  am  very  glad  to  see 
you  ;  but  what  are  you  doing  in  my  room  ?  " 

Hildegarde  made  no  answer.  She  bent  over 
and  took  the  child  in  her  arms ;  raised  him  a 
little,  with  his  head  resting  on  her  shoulder,  so 
that  he  could  see  beyond  her.  His  eyes  trav- 
elled round  the  room,  growing  rounder  and 
larger  every  moment,  as  in  the  broadening  light 


290  HILDEGARDE'S  HARVEST. 

one  object  after  another  shone  out,  familiar,  and 
yet  strange. 

"  Beloved,"  he  said,  "I  beg  your  pardon! 
But  what  am  /  doing  in  your  room?  Will 
you  make  me  understand,  please  ? " 

"  You  have  been  asleep,  darling  !  "  said  Hil de- 
garde.  "You  were  not  very  well,  and  —  and 
you  happened  to  be  here  at  the  time,  and  so  — 
we  put  you  to  bed  here,  you  see." 

"I  don't  see  very  well!  "  said  Hugh,  in  quite 
his  own  manner.  "  But  probably  I  shall  in  a 
little  while.  How  long  have  I  been  asleep  ?  " 

"  Oh,  quite  a  long  time.  But  aren't  you 
hungry  now,  little  boy  ?  See,  here  is  Auntie, 
and  she  is  going  to  bring  you  up  some  breakfast, 
the  very  best  breakfast  you  can  think  of.  What 
do  you  say  to  chicken  broth  ?  " 

Hugh  nodded  and  smiled  at  Auntie,  who  stood 
devouring  him  with  her  eyes. 

"  Thank  you  !  "  he  said.  "  I  think  I  shall  be 
hungry,  —  when  my  think  comes  back  a  little 
more.  My  think  —  my  mind  —  has  been  asleep, 
[  am  pretty  sure  !  "  he  added,  looking  up  at  Hil- 
degarde  with  his  quiet,  penetrating  gaze. 


AT    LAST.  291 

"  If  I  had  Only  just  gone  to  sleep  with  my 
eyes,  Beloved,  I  should  remember  about  it ;  and 
I  don't  —  remember  —  much  of  anything." 

"  Oh,  never  mind  about  it  now,  Hughie ! 
When  you  feel  stronger  we  will  talk  it  all  over. 
See  !  I  want  to  bathe  your  face  and  smooth 
your  hair  before  breakfast  comes.  Now  you 
shall  be  my  baby,  and  I  will  curl  your  golden 
locks  for  you.  Shall  I  put  something  good  in 
the  water  ?  There  !  Isn't  that  nice  and  fresh  ? 
And  now  you  shall  put  on  my  dressing-jacket ; 
my  beautiful  new  dressing-jacket,  that  Bell  made 
for  me.  Here  it  is,  all  fluttering  with  pink  rib- 
bons. Wasn't  it  dear  of  Bell  to  make  it  ?  " 

"  Bell !  "  said  Hugh,  meditatively ;  he  seemed 
to  be  searching  for  something  in  his  mind. 

"  Bell  ~  Bellerophon  !  " 

"  Never  mind  about  Bellerophon  now,  dear," 
said  Hildegarde,  trying  to  hide  her  anxiety,  and 
to  speak  lightly.  "  We  will  have  Bellerophon 
by  and  by ;  we  don't  want  him  here." 

But  Hugh  was  not  to  be  turned  aside ;  his 
brain  was  now  fully  awake,  and  at  work,  but 
his  look  was  so  calm  and  clear,  his  voice  so 


292  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

natural  and  peaceful,  that  Hildegarde  felt  re- 
lieved in  spite  of  herself. 

"I  have  to  consider  a  little,  Beloved,"  he 
said,  cheerfully,  "just  to  straighten  out  my 
think,  which  appears  to  be  somewhat  mixed. 
What  —  was  —  I  —  doing  —  on  a  roof?" 

Hildegarde  held  her  peace.  The  child  must 
cake  his  own  way,  she  felt ;  she  did  not  dare  to 
cross  him. 

"I  went  up  —  on  a  roof!"  Hugh  went  on. 
*: I  think  it  was  a  roof,  Beloved?" 

.Hildegarde  nodded. 

"  And  there  —  I  was  Pegasus,  you  remember  ; 
I  have  been  Pegasus  a  great  deal  lately,  but 
I  shall  not  be  him  for  a  good  while  now,  be- 
cause I  have  had  enough,  —  I  was  Pegasus,  and 
I  wanted  Bellerophon.  The  Christmas  Tree 
frightened  him  away,  so  I  came  —  somewhere 
—  perhaps  here  ?  and  I  thought  it  was  a  moun- 
tain. I  thought  it  was  Helicon,  and  if  I  climbed 
up  to  the  top,  Bellerophon  would  come  to  me, 
and  we  would  fly  down  and  kill  the  Chimsera, 
don't  you  see  ?  " 

(6  I  see,  dear,  of  course  !     And  then  —  ?  " 


AT   LAST.  293 

"  Then  I  called  out  to  Bellerophon  that  I  was 
ready,  and  we  would  fly.  But  —  but  just  as  we 
were  going  to  fly,  some  strong  person  took  hold 
of  me,  and  I  looked,  and  I  was  on  a  roof,  with 
Captain  Roger  holding  me.  Where  is  Captain 
Roger,  Beloved?  And  where  was  the  roof?" 

"  The  roof  was  here,  dear  child !  You  were 
walking  in  your  sleep,  Hugh.  You  climbed  up 
to  the  upper  roof,  and  —  and  Captain  Roger  saw 
you,  and  went  after  you,  and  brought  you  down. 
That  is  how  you  came  to  be  in  my  room,  Hugh. 
Now  you  understand  it  all,  darling,  and  you  will 
not  worry  any  more  about  it." 

Hugh  looked  relieved. 

"  Now  I  shall  not  worry  any  more  about  it !  " 
he  repeated,  with  satisfaction.  "  It  was  puzzling 
me  dreadfully,  Beloved,  and  I  could  not  get 
straight  till  I  saw  how  it  was,  but  now  I  see. 
My  head  has  been  queer  ever  since  I  fell  down  on 
the  ice  ;  I  think  Bellerophon  got  bumped  into  it, 
don't  you?  But  now  he  is  bumped  out  again, 
and  he  may  go  and  kill  the  Chimaera  himself, 
for  I  sha'n't  stir  a  step." 

His  laughter  rang  out  fresh  and  joyous;  and 


294  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

at  the  sound  Mrs.  Grahame  came  running  in, 
at  first  in  great  anxiety,  fearing  delirium ;•  but 
when  she  saw  the  two  happy  faces,  beaming 
with  smiles,  and  heard  Hugh  addressing  her 
in  his  own  quaint  fashion,  and  hoping  that  she 
had  slept  very  well  indeed,  she  could  not  keep 
back  the  tears  of  joy.  Seeing  these  tears,  Hilde- 
garde  must  needs  weep  a  little,  too ;  but  they 
were  such  tears  as  did  no  one  any  harm,  and 
Hugh  said  at  once,  "  This  is  a  sun-shower !  And 
now  we  shall  have  a  rainbow,  and  after  that 
some  breakfast." 

When  the  breakfast  came,  you  may  be  sure 
it  was  served  on  the  very  best  tray  the  house 
afforded,  —  the  gold  -  lacquered  one,  with  the 
bronze  dragon  curling  about  it ;  and  the  broth 
was  in  the  blue  Sevres  bowl,  with  golden  pheas- 
ants strutting  round  it. 

"  Dem's  de  nearest  to  chick'ns  I  could  find  !  " 
said  Auntie,  and  Hildegarde  forbore  to  point  out 
to  her  that  she,  Hildegarde,  had  never  been 
allowed  to  so  much  as  dust  this  precious  piece 
of  china,  much  less  to  eat  out  of  it.  And  the 
toast  was  like  thin  strips  of  edible  gold,  so  that 


AT   LAST.  295 

both  Hugh  and  Hildegarde  declared  King  Midas 
could  not  have  had  such  a  bad  time  of  it  after 
all,  if  he  had  a  cook  anything  like  Auntie.  It 
was  hard  to  tell  who  most  enjoyed  the  broth 
and  toast,  Hugh  who  ate  it,  Auntie  who  made 
it,  or  Hildegarde  who  held  the  spoon,  and  broke 
off  the  crisp  bits.  It  was  a  happy  little  feast, 
and  the  doctor  was  a  joyful  man  when  he  looked 
in  on  it  an  hour  or  so  later.  He  said  that  all 
would  go  well  now. 

"  Slowly !  slowly !  No  hurry !  Keep  him 
here  a  while  yet,  and  don't  let  him  see  too 
many  people ;  no  excitable  folks,  who  will  weep 
over  him,"  —  Hilda  and  her  mother  exchanged 
a  guilty  glance,  — "  keep  him  in  bed  for  a  day 
or  two,  till  he  gets  his  balance  entirely.  Good- 
bye !  God  bless  you  !  " 

The  good  man  trotted  off  briskly,  and  they 
heard  him  greeting  some  one  on  the  veranda 
below. 

"Doing  finely!  finely!  All  right  now;  a 
little  quiet,  a  little  care,  —  going  in  ?  Yes  ! 
Oh,  yes!  See  you  all  right!  Told  them  to 
keep  noisy  folks  away.  Good-morning  !  " 


296  HILDEGARDE'S    HARVEST. 

Mrs.  Grahame  went  out,  and  spoke  in  a  low 
voice  with  some  one  now  in  the  hall.  Some 
one  was  speaking  in  return,  very  low;  yet 
not  so  low  but  that  Hildegarde's  heart  began 
to  throb,  and  the  colour  to  mount  high  over 
cheek  and  brow;  not  so  low  but  that  Hugh, 
who  had  the  fine  ear  of  some  woodland  creature, 
sat  up  in  bed,  and  clapped  his  hands. 

"  It  is  Captain  Roger,  Beloved !  It  is  him- 
self ;  do  you  hear  his  voice  ?  And  he  must  come 
up,  please,  this  moment  of  time,  to  see  me,  and 
to  let  me  tell  him  what  is  in  my  heart  for  him." 

Hildegarde  hesitated ;  there  was  a  tumult 
within  her  that  made  her  feel  uncertain  what 
was  best  to  do  or  say ;  but  in  this  moment  Mrs. 
Grahame  had  brought  Roger  up-stairs,  and  now 
he  was  here,  on  the  threshold.  He  was  in  the 
room ;  he  was  holding  her  hand,  and  looking  at 
her  with  his  bright,  kind  gaze. 

Neither  of  them  spoke ;  it  was  Hugh  who 
broke  the  silence.  Roger  had  sat  down  by  him, 
after  that  first  silent  greeting,  and  kissed  his 
forehead,  and  took  both  the  child's  hands  in 
his. 


AT    LAST.  297 

"  I  heard  you,  Captain  Roger ;  I  heard  the 
first  tone  of  your  voice,  and  you  sounded  like 
an  angel." 

"  Did  I,  Hugh  ?  I  don't  think  I  look  like  an 
angel,  do  you  ?  Did  you  ever  see  a  picture  of 
one  with  a  moustache  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  it  says  that  they  don't 
always  look  like  themselves,  you  know.  Many 
times  they  looked  just  like  common  men  in  the 
Bible.  And  you  were  an  angel  when  you  came 
to  me  on  the  roof  the  other  night." 

Roger  glanced  quickly  at  Hildegarde ;  the  girl 
nodded. 

"He  knows,"  she  said.  "I  could  not  keep 
it  from  him,  the  moment  he  was  himself  again. 
He  pieced  it  all  out,  with  hardly  any  help  from 
me." 

Roger  looked  grave,  but  his  anxious  look 
rested  on  Hildegarde,  not  on  Hugh. 

"  Did  you  take  cold  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  ?  No,  certainly  not !  Why  should  I  take 
cold?" 

"  In  your  thin  evening  dress  !  "  said  Roger, 
reproachfully.  "  With  slippers  on  your  feet,  — 


298  HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST. 

there  you  stood  in  the  snow,  arid  would  not  go 
in  when  I  told  you.  I  have  thought  of  nothing 
but  pneumonia  and  consumption  ever  since. 
But  —  you  look  pretty  well,  I  think!" 

Hildegarde  laughed  in  spite  of  herself. 

"I —  I  thought  you  believed  in  being  wet !  " 
she  said. 

"  For  myself  —  of  course  !  We  are  all  polar 
bears,  more  or  less ;  but  it  is  different  with 
you." 

"  Very  different !  "  said  Hildegarde.  "  I  had 
snow  -  boots  on,  Captain  Roger,  all  the  time ! 
Your  anxiety  has  been  thrown  away,  you  see." 

"So!"  said  Roger,  with  a  look  of  intense 
relief.  "  I  never  thought  of  that !  I  —  I  didn't 
think  —  " 

"  You  didn't  think  I  had  sense  enough ! " 
cried  Hildegarde.  "  No  more  I  had !  They 
just  happened  to  be  on  my  feet,  because  I 
hadn't  taken  them  off.  I  had  been  sitting  and 
looking  out  of  the  window,  ever  since  the  Christ- 
mas Tree." 

"  So  had  I !  "  said  Roger.  "  That  was  how 
we  both  happened  to  see.  The  moral  is  — " 


AT   LAST.  299 

He  did  not  say  what  the  moral  was,  but  sat 
pulling  his  moustache,  and  looking  at  Hilde- 
garde.  Hildegarde  felt  herself  blushing  again  ; 
she  tried  to  speak  of  some  trivial  thing,  but  the 
words  died  on  her  lips ;  the  silence  deepened 
every  moment,  and  it  seemed  as  if  she  and  Roger 
were  drowning  in  it,  going  deeper  and  deeper 
down,  down, — 

Hugh  looked  cheerfully  from  one  to  the  other ; 
he  saw  that  they  were  embarrassed  for  some 
reason,  and  came  to  the  rescue  with  his  usual 
calm  philanthropy. 

"  Have  you  forgotten  what  you  wanted  to 
say  ?  When  I  am  going  to  say  anything,  and 
then  forget  what  I  wanted  to  say,  I  say,  '  I 
love  you ! ' 

Roger  broke  into  a  short  laugh. 

"  Thank  you,  Hugh!"  he  said.  "There  is 
not  much  need  of  my  saying  it,  but  —  shall  I, 
Hilda?" 

Hildegarde  could  not  speak.  She  looked  up, 
and  meeting  her  eyes,  Roger  held  out  his  hand 
across  the  little  bed,  —  the  strong,  faithful  hand 
that  had  helped  her  now  so  many  times,  —  and 


300  HILDEGARDE'S  HARVEST. 

she  laid  hers  in  it,  and  felt  its  earnest  clasp,  and 
knew  that  there  was  no  more  any  parting  be- 
tween Roger  and  her. 


THE    END. 


i      RETURN    EDUCATION-PSYCHOLOGY  LIBRARY 

2600  Tolman  Hall  642-4209 


LOAN  PERIOD  1 
SEMESTER 

2 

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DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 

SEMESTER  LOAfJ 

]        MAY  12  138 

SiwicoTTnocrA 

1 

RHTD  APR  1  4  '84  {1  PM 

rvuu  u  ™      *  ^y—Apji  ,  /.  .  u 

otMtoltlt  LUnn 

f*  r~  rt    n  t\  4-O-Q-^) 

SEP  101984 

SUBJEC 

REC'n  MAY  1  5  '84 

[  TO  RtWUL 



Sti'i.ESTFRi.OAN 

DEC  18  1985 

SUBJECT  Tr-gy; 

BHTD   RFC    ^  *85"6PW 

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